Game
by rollwithbutter
Summary: Kili and Fili can turn any chore into an adventure. While chasing glory, Fili finds himself in a sticky situation and Kili must pull off a daring rescue using more finesse than force. (Everyone pray for Fili...) Complete!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I had no idea where I was going with this at first, but now it's full steam ahead with a plot! ****Chapters will be getting longer, this one was woefully inadequate as far as length goes, I know. I think we're looking at an eventual 10 chapters or so here? Bit of action, bit of hurt!Fili & pissed!Kili, maybe some stoic/grumpy!Thorin as well.**

**Disclaimer: These are not my characters, I own nothing. It's all Tolkien.**

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Two bright pairs of eyes peered out from behind the dangling carcass of a rabbit, one set mischievous and dark, the other a deep, twinkling blue.

"Fili, do you see what I see?" whispered Kili with an edge of longing in his voice.

"Of course I see it, I'm sitting a half inch away from you, aren't I? I'm not blind."

Kili ignored his brother's sarcastic reply and narrowed his eyes at the tempting sight before them. "I think we could take it," he whispered.

Fili considered briefly. The snares that Thorin had sent them to check in the woods had so far been full. If they were left much longer they were sure to be emptied by marauding animals. Of course, if they went down the line and collected all of the game now, they would lose their chance at a truly glorious reward.

"I don't know," he said slowly. If they lost both this impossible prize _and_ the game in the traps, Thorin would surely have their heads on a platter. "Don't you have your bow? Take it down now!"

"There's too many trees in the way. Besides, it's strapped to the pony." Fili stared at Kili in open mouthed contempt.

"You always have it!" he hissed. "Why now, of all times, is it strapped to the damned pony?"

"Well, I didn't think it was going to be necessary to take down an already strung up rabbit with a bow!" Kili hissed back.

The object of their desire looked up at his hissing whisper, ears swiveling alertly as it chewed on a mouthful of lush undergrowth. The brothers ducked behind a thick stand of ferns and held their breath. The huge creature seemed to be leisurely considering it's options and Fili and Kili were very glad that they were on the right side of the wind at the moment. Hearing the snapping of twigs and a rustle of leaves, Kili risked a careful glance around their cover. The great animal was slowly moving away. "To the ponies!" he whispered, a fierce gleam in his eyes.

Fili sighed inwardly before committing himself to yet another Kili-inspired folly. There was no point in resisting. No one could sway Kili from his purpose when he came over all manic like this. _Ah well,_ Fili thought reasonably. _Might as well enjoy the chase then._ "To the ponies," he agreed with enthusiasm.

_If our bellies go empty tonight,_ Kili thought, creeping up a small ridge as they followed their back trail, _Then perhaps we'll at_ _least have a grand story to fill their heads up with._

Not that the tale of their pursuits could ever take the place of a fat, juicy rabbit in Thorin's eyes, but it might at least take the edge off his scolding.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: Alright, we've got a heading, now let's chart a course! Ahem... What I mean is, I've finally figured out where I'm going with this. I hope you enjoy the ride!**

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The brothers barreled down the forest pass, intent on their prize. Ahead raced a magnificent stag, it's massive rack spreading wide enough to catch on any low branches and numbering twelve points at least. He would be a marvelous trophy to carry back to camp, and a pleasant surprise as well, for the others were all under the impression that two youngest dwarves in their company had only gone to check the trap lines. What were a couple of stoats and hares compared to the glory that this beast would bring them! Even Thorin, who would doubtless be annoyed that they had varied from his clear instructions to check the snares and return immediately with the game, would quickly thaw at the sight of such a breathtaking specimen.

The woods were becoming choked with small young trees, more prevalent now that greater light that was becoming available as they approached the clearing that signaled the edge of the western drop up ahead. To the north rose a rough scarp of rock, low enough for a deer to climb, but treacherous enough to make an easy target of him. The south tract, however, offered miles of vast cover and wilderness, a great expanse of sheltering forest that was wide and deep enough to lose an entire herd of rock trolls in.

Kili, slightly ahead on his faster pony, ducked and dodged as scrubby pines and cedars whipped past at a fantastic rate. His face stung from the repeated lashings of branches that he hadn't managed to avoid, yet the smile that he wore was one of utter ecstasy. It felt good to let go in a burst of speed after so many days spent trudging ponderously along behind the others on their trek across the rocky plains.

Fili pounded along behind his brother and noted that their fleet quarry was gradually pulling ahead. It would not be possible for them to outrun the stag on their rugged little ponies. The shaggy little stallions, Brassy and Pluck, were stalwart and strong, but they were bred for endurance and for bearing great loads, and not for the sudden bursts of speed that their riders had demanded of them. Unless they came up with some other plan, the stag would be sure to escape. He flicked his eyes toward Kili and wondered if the same realization had entered his mind. This was his chase, and Fili would not take the lead in the matter even if it meant loosing a fine evening meal of venison.

As though reading his mind, Kili let out a shrill whistle and turned in his saddle to catch his brother's eye. When he saw that he had gained Fili's attention he made a series of intricate gestures that suggested that they divide in their chase, with Fili swinging wide in order to cut the great stag off from any possible escape to the south. He could then herd the deer back, effectively trapping it on all sides. A flight in any direction other than south would ensure Kili a chance at a decent shot, ideally the rocky embankment to the north, which was open and clear enough for his arrows.

Fili nodded, immediately comprehending his brother's intentions. He was proud of his little brother for recognizing their limitations and compensating for them with a plan instead of plowing thoughtlessly ahead in his usual way. Kili's little scrapes and misadventures were often a good learning experience for the younger dwarf, and Fili liked to allow him the space to figure things out for himself. Their uncle, Thorin, could be unintentionally heavy handed at times, and Kili tended to balk stubbornly or become despondent if he was oppressed for too long under such a stringent yoke. This brief flight of fancy would provide a break for his uncle and a much needed release for the high-spirited Kili.

Kili grinned and waved before surging forward to disappear into the thickening brush. Fili broke off from the chase and veered away on Pluck, who was beginning to show signs of tiring. Perspiration dampened the obedient little animal's furry neck and flank, yet still the pony poured his entire heart into the task that Fili asked of him.

Fili slowed slightly as he turned, giving Pluck a chance to recover. They wouldn't need to cover much distance in order to head the deer off from escape; They need only be ready when it tried to turn back and cut away.

Pluck pranced through a small stream, the clay lined bottom tugging at his hooves and causing him to stumble and splash Fili, who laughed.

"Come on, we don't want to get bogged down and disappoint the little one counting on us," he chuckled, wiping cold creek water from his eye. He rubbed some onto his pony's overheated neck and received what he assumed to be a thankful nicker in return. Pluck pulled and tugged his way out of the thick mud and gained the opposite bank, snorting with relief. Clicking his tongue, Fili urged Pluck into the trees and they continued for some time until he decided that they were positioned advantageously enough. If the stag cut this way then they would be able to drive it back to Kili. After that, it would all be up to his brother and his bow.

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**Couldn't find Fili & Kili's pony's names anywhere, so I made them up based on the brother's personalities. Hope they were fitting enough. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and followed (and even faved!) so far! Sooooo motivational! (Hint, hint)**


	3. Chapter 3

The deer surged ahead and Kili raced on, pushing his pony, Brassy, to his limit. The small horse snorted with every determined beat of his hooves, flecks of spittle and foam flying from around his bit. They dove through bracken and brush, barely managing to keep the fleeing deer within their sights as it bound over thick tangles that Brassy was forced to break his way awkwardly through. They were rapidly losing ground.

Kili pulled Brassy to the right, edging closer to the northern embankment not yet visible through the trees. It never occurred to him that his plan would not work; He had led too charmed a life to think for one moment that the stag's kingly rack would not soon be his.

The deer started in alarm as it saw them close in from a new direction. In it's dim, animal mind this was a new danger apart from the wheeling banshees that had been chasing it furiously from behind. It did not comprehend that Kili was not a separate threat, but only the same one that had simply changed it's course. Danger was pressing in from too many sides now, and knowing its territory well the stag turned south, away from the drop and unknowingly straight towards Kili's waiting brother.

Kili continued after his quarry briefly, just long enough to spread the frightening scent of horse and rider to keep the deer from bounding off in the direction they had started from. Brassy was overheated and cross. He tossed his head resentfully and rolled an accusing eye back toward his master, who patted his neck in apology.

"I know, I know. One last run and you can rest, friend. We've almost done it!" Brassy snorted and flicked his mane under Kili's comforting caress as if shooing a bothersome fly. Kili chuckled and withdrew his offending hand. "Well fine, if that's how you want to be then I won't speak to you the rest of the trip." Brassy tossed his head again, this time enthusiastically.

"Ye crabby little git," Kili growled affectionately. "One last time," he promised again. Brassy grudgingly kicked up his heels and they cantered north to wait for their prize to reappear and meet it's heroic end.

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"They should have been back by now." Thorin Oakenshield wore a baleful, but unsurprised expression at Balin's remark as he observed the sun beginning to set in the sky. "How long does it take to check a trap line?"

Thorin grunted in response. For Fili and Kili, checking snares could easily turn into a day long adventure. It wasn't that they were layabouts or bunglers, they simply couldn't control their impulses, Kili especially. Well, almost entirely Kili. Fili simply had to learn not to let his brother drag him into trouble so often. Thorin wondered again why he kept sending them out together. It was time to start splitting the pair up during watches and camp chores; They had to learn that there were more people in the world than just each other. "Bombur!" Thorin called decisively.

Bombur struggled up from the log that he had been seated on talking and laughing with Bofur and Bifur and trundled over to his king. "No sign of the lads then?" His cavernous stomach grumbled with disappointment.

Thorin shook his head tightly. For the whole company to suffer at the expense of his nephews' wayward attention spans was an embarrassment that he keenly felt. "Throw on a pot of that wretched gruel. There will be no fresh meat tonight."

Bombur waddled back to the fireside and erected a stand of poles from which to hang his iron cooking pot. He poured in a greyish, floury substance from a sack, added water from a skin bag, and set to work dourly stirring the unappealing mush that had sustained them for almost a week of hard travel. Tonight was the first night they had planned to rest long enough to run a few snares and hunt down some game for meat, and everyone in the camp had been eagerly awaiting the young brothers' return. A mutinous grumbling rippled through the camp as the hungry dwarves saw the contents of the pot that was to be their dinner yet again.

Balin hastened a glance at his king. "Should we send out a search party?"

Thorin sighed. There was no question of leaving the lads out there alone in the woods. He had to be sure they were alive so that he could personally wring their necks when they were found.

"I will gather Dwalin, Bifur and Bofur for the chore. Finish making camp and keep a regular watch while we're gone. The fools can't have gone far." Balin, knowing his king as he did, easily perceived what Thorin tried so hard to hide behind his harsh words; Thorin was worried. His anxiety for the safety of his nephews was apparent in his heavy brow and thunderous looks, although anyone who knew him less might have mistook them for anger alone.

Thorin's fear for his nephews was pragmatic as well as personal. It was a blessing that the two brothers were close, but so rarely were they apart that Thorin often worried that if some misfortune befell one, then it would likely be the end of _both_ of the heirs of Durin, leaving himself the last of their line.

Dwalin had overheard and appeared at Thorin's side leading four saddled and ready ponies. Bofur and Bifur trailed behind, Bifur looking a more than a little put out. Thorin mounted his pony, Surly, and the others immediately followed suit on Daisy, Bungle and Daffy. A disgusted pall tinged with worry hung over the group as they entered the woods and set off in the direction of the neglected snares.

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**AN: A bit of a 'prequel to action' sort of chapter. They'll be getting longer and we'll be seeing less of that damn deer soon. And seriously, why does Thorin keep sending those kids out together? Together = Trouble, durr. **

**Kinda not in love with this chapter, but oh well. An 'oh crap' moment for Fili coming up!**

**I loves me reviews!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: A great big, heartfelt thank you to all who reviewed, faved & followed! I'm loving the loves! Some of you seemed to be going through Fili withdrawal on the last chapter, so here's a whoooooole bunch o'Fili for you folks! I'm upping the rating just a bit for some mild violence, btw.**

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The sound of distant crashing in the underbrush immediately drew Fili's attention. The stag had turned exactly as Kili had predicted; It seemed they would have a chance at supper after all. Pluck perked up his ears and tensed in response, and Fili tapped him lightly with his heels.

The stag had slowed, finally feeling that he had lost his frenzied pursuers. He paused, snuffing small bursts of steam with his hide twitching as drops of perspiration rolled over him. Fili watched and waited from behind a cover of spindly shrubs. When the deer seemed to be completely at his ease, he let out a great bellow and burst with Pluck from behind the trees. The deer started in alarm, turning neatly in midair to dart away from this new demonic apparition. Whooping and hollering, Fili and Pluck drove the terrified creature around, it's eyes rolling in panic and desperation as it vaulted a fallen log and careened back the way it had come.

Fili did not give chase; Pluck was tired and there was no reason for them to race to their point of rendezvous to see the outcome of their hunt. Fili had every confidence that as long as the deer ran as expected, Kili would get his shot. Aside from his handsome, revered older brother, unfailing accuracy with his beloved bow was Kili's one and only constancy in life, he reflected fondly.

Fili allowed Pluck to amble along at his own pace and amused himself by mimicking the various songbirds that flitted curiously overhead. He found he could pull off quite a good warbler imitation, almost as good as Kili's eerily real owl calls. The brothers used their uncanny talents for mimicry during the night watch, their ability to communicate becoming more and more advanced with every new call that they learned. It was evolving into their own private language, like twin-speak.

The afternoon was on the wane, and the light that slanted sharply through the branches of the towering oaks was golden and warm on Fili's face. It would soon drop behind the western cliffs, which meant that his fellow dwarves back at camp would be grumbling for their evening meal about now. He hoped they would not be disappointed.

Fili paused. A change had come over the woods and it took him a moment to place what was different. All of the voices in the trees had gone quiet, and Fili realized uncomfortably that the only birdsong to be heard was his own.

An unexpected shout came from ahead, and Fili froze, hauling Pluck back by the reigns as he did. The shout was followed by voices that bantered back and forth in a harsh, sibilant tongue. With a flare of adrenaline he recognized the sound, although he could not understand the words being spoken.

"Goblins," he hissed, one hand shooting to the blade he wore at his hip and pulling it smoothly from its sheath. Pluck tossed his head and fidgeted; The sharp little pony could likely smell the stench of Goblin in the air. Fili hastened to calm him lest the Goblins hear and investigate the sound. His own heart was pounding so loudly in his chest that he was half afraid they might hear that as well.

Pluck pranced uncertainly, waiting for Fili to give him some direction, but Fili was undecided on how to proceed. The rasping whine of the goblins seemed to be growing louder and heading in his direction, and all he wanted was to get around them to find Kili. Aule forbid the filthy orcs find his brother first!

Fili was just preparing to push silently on to the east in an effort to outflank the goblin band and cut around to find Kili when another shout came from behind him. He turned to look and cursed savagely as he spied a lone goblin clearly yelling and gesturing in his direction. He had been seen.

Pluck dashed forward, heedless of his direction and Fili let him go where he would. The spongy forest floor dampened all sound of the valiant little pony's hoof beats, but his breath crashed out in loud, short bursts. Fili clung uselessly to his flying mane and tried not to clutch too tightly at the reigns.

A cadaverous form sprung from behind a tree and startled the small horse. Fili gaped in horror as five more goblins materialized behind the first. Glancing behind him, he saw that his retreat was cut off by a string of the lurid creatures, all brandishing a variety of ill-kept scimitars, spears and rusted blades. They leered at him wordlessly as they advanced.

Fili kicked his heels into Pluck's sides and they bound forward, dodging a copse of beech in their path. Familiar landmarks whizzed past and Fili realized that they were almost back to the small stream that they had crossed earlier.

They were headed straight for camp.

Fili pulled Pluck's head sharply to the right, turning him east. The terrain was unfamiliar to them both but their options were slim. The goblins were slow, pursuing on foot, but Pluck was spent and hurting from his earlier exertions.

A familiar, high-pitched whistling sound caught Fili's attention and he instinctively ducked. An arrow passed by so close that it whisked through a braid at the side of his head. He swore and risked a sideways look toward the arrow's source and was not rewarded for his curiosity. A second band of orcs was joining the first, pouring in from the left. This had to be the first group that he had heard shouting ahead in the woods.

They rounded the trunk of an ancient oak and found themselves in a cleared area surrounding a larger branch of the little brook. The stream was wider here, and the bank appeared boggy and unsure. Fili had no choice but to take Pluck through it and prayed that the bottom would not be as swampy as it looked. He kicked his mount into flight and they jumped as far as they could across the peaty shore. Fili's heart sank as they entered the water; Pluck's hooves sliced straight through the soggy bottom, and before they knew it he had sunk down clear up to his withers. They continued to struggle, making it more than halfway across the deceptively deep murk before becoming completely stuck.

Mired down in the torpid, muddy brook they were wide open targets. Pluck whinnied with alarm and floundered frantically as he tried to regain his footing. Fili dismounted into the water and managed to stumble to the animal's side, losing one of his boots to the viscous ooze. He threw his shoulder against the struggling pony's rump and heaved with all his might. Pluck splashed down chest first as their combined efforts suddenly freed his hind legs from the mud with a great slurping, sucking sound. He lurched forward and thrashed wildly in the shallows until he struck upon a ridge of firmer silt beneath the water and his hooves were able to find greater purchase. The terror-stricken pony leapt nimbly up the bank, leaving Fili awkwardly balanced in mid-push, and he fell face first into the mud.

Sputtering, he pushed himself up and realized with alarm that he had lost his sword to the gluey bottom. Wiping sand and muck from his eyes, Fili heard a barrage of snarling laughter coming from uncomfortably close by. Whirling, he pulled his remaining blade from its sheath at his back and blinked furiously to regain his sight. His heart leaped into his throat as his vision cleared; Goblins lined the bank on both sides, at least twenty or more. Blood pounded through his head hard enough to make him briefly dizzy as the realization set in that he would not be able to fight his way out of this alone. There were simply too many. He spared a brief thought for Kili and determined that if he were to go down now, then he would at least leave his brother the comfort of knowing that he had fought bravely to the very end.

With a roar, Fili launched himself at the nearest goblin, its yellowed fangs flashing as it crowed at the sight of the furious, mud-covered dwarf. Its laughter died quickly as Fili brought his blade down in a sharp arc towards its head. The goblin hissed and countered his attack, but the force behind the blow sent it stumbling to its knees in the boggy peat lining the creek bed. Fili took its head clean off with a second back-handed swipe.

There was a second of shocked silence and then the world exploded around him. Fili ducked and whirled, parrying blows from fists and scimitars in a cacophony of shrieking wails.

"It's killed Og!" one of the fiends cried. "Kill the yellow dwarf!"

A glancing blow from an armored fist caught Fili in the temple. He swung his blade blindly in the direction of the attack and grunted with satisfaction when he met a meaty resistance. There was an answering howl of rage and then he was struck again and again. His head throbbed wildly and he tried to lash out once more, but there were too many of the stinking bodies pressed around him now. Filthy hands grasped at his arms and forced them behind his back. He cried out as his wrist was viciously twisted and his sword pried savagely from his grip. He threw his head back hard and connected with the face of one of the goblins that had pinned his arms. There was a satisfying crunch followed by a less satisfying spray of black ichor across the back of his neck as the goblin's nose shattered, driving a wedge of splintered bone into its diminutive brain and killing it instantly. Fili wrenched his arm free as the body fell.

A second wave of outrage rolled over the goblin horde at the sight of their fallen comrade. Fili took heart from his success and struck out again, using his free elbow to shatter the unprotected ribs of a nearby foe.

"Enough!" roared a voice deeper than the rest, and Fili looked up to see a goblin taller and broader than the rest, holding a thick, wooden club at the ready. Fili's newly freed arm was recaptured during the distraction and Fili struggled hopelessly in their grip once more.

"We take it alive," said this new speaker as it approached. The giant had the same lean, sickly build as the others but towered over them, taller by two feet at the least. From around him came an awed hiss; _"Goliath! Goliath!"_ the goblins whispered, and reverentially cleared a path to their captive. Fili stopped his struggle abruptly and hung his head, the very image of defeat. "Where there's one, there's more. We take it to Nettor to... _question_." Goliath lisped, lingering almost lovingly on his final word. Fili easily read the colossal goblin's intended meaning.

Interrogation. Torture.

Fili swallowed, his throat suddenly tight. Goliath leered down at him, hovering close to his face. The stench of foul breath assaulted his nose as he drew in a sharp breath before making his one last, desperate bid for freedom. With a ferocious yell, Fili threw his full weight back on his captors, using them as his supports as he drew his legs back and up, then pistoned them forward with all of his might. He caught the giant orc off guard and his one remaining heavy boot slammed into its chest. His naked heel caught it neatly in the socket of one eye and the great goblin let out a bellow of rage. Goliath stumbled back, clutching at his face.

An awed hush settled over the glen. Fili panted, his eyes wide. A sound broke the silence, terrible in its insincerity; Goliath was laughing. Still holding a grimy hand over his injured eye, he advanced on the prisoner. "We take it alive," he mocked almost gently. At odds to his tone, Goliath's baleful, one-eyed glare promised Fili eons of horrors._ "For now."_

The last thing Fili saw through the screen of his mud-streaked hair was the massive club as it whistled down through the air before connecting solidly with the back of his head. "Kili," he managed to whisper once before the woods closed in around him and he was dragged back into blackness.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Hello again! I've contracted some sort of plague, so I'll be staying in bed all day, which means chapters for ****_you_****! Special thanks to Horserida for throwing me some technical pointers for my pesky ponies that I hope I've managed to work in believably enough. Another special thanks to everyone who has chucked me review bones so loyally!**

**It occurs to me that I never put on a disclaimer. *gulp!* So here it is, I have absolutely no rights to anything Hobbit related whatsoever.**

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The deer stumbled wearily out of the trees. It had had enough of the shrieking fiends that hid behind their sheltering trunks and had decided in its dim way to try its luck out in the open.

Kili was set and ready with his back to a large oak. He was able to look out across the rocky flat before the stony rise and a fair distance into the woods from this vantage point. His eager face lit up at the sight of the massive rack as it separated itself from the woods. Carefully, quietly, he stalked around the edge of the tree, keeping it between himself and the exhausted stag.

Peering around the trunk, he saw the deer take one tentative step into the open. Then another. He forced himself to be patient even though his right hand was itching to draw. He couldn't risk making a sound now when the deer was still so close to cover. _Keep going,_ he willed it. _That's it now..._

It seemed like an age until Kili was satisfied with the deer's position. Taking a silent breath, he nocked a wickedly sharp arrow and drew it smoothly back, his thumb coming to rest familiarly at his anchor point against the stubble of his right cheek. Bringing the deer into his sights, he aimed just a bit low to allow for the wary creature's tendency to crouch at the first sign of alarm before springing away. He took another deep lungful of crisp, forest air then began to release it slowly.

A small sound came from the forest behind his back. There was a rustling and a slight snapping of brush, but Kili, lost in his preparations for his shot, did not hear. The stag did, however, and crouched in alarm. Time froze, and in that crucial moment at the bottom of his breath Kili gently relaxed the hand holding the bowstring and released his arrow. It thrummed through his fingers and flew swift and true across the fifty or so yards that divided him from his target. The arrow pierced the thundering heart of the great forest creature and buried itself deep enough that the fletching all but disappeared in its hide.

The deer let out an oddly mournful bleat, staggered several feet, then fell, its body sliding part way down the slope on the loose, gravelly soil. Kili brought down his bow and let out a relieved burst of whooping, triumphant laughter._ Let them mount _that _on the walls of Erebor! _he thought proudly.

The shrubbery behind him twitched once more and this time the crackling noise that accompanied its movement commanded Kili's partial attention.

"Look Fili! We've done it! No lousy rabbit stew for us tonight. It's venison steaks for all!" He turned grinning and ready to share his triumph with his brother, but Fili was nowhere to be seen.

"Fili?" The smile slid uncertainly from his face and he peered into the empty treeline. Frowning, he let out a shrill whistle. He was answered by an eager snort and approaching hooves as Brassy came to his call from where he had been told to wait. The little horse seemed unperturbed and Kili smirked. If Brassy thought nothing was amiss then this must be his brother's idea of a joke.

"Alright, the jig is up, come on out. If you think I'm doing all the work of dressing this thing by myself then you've got another thing coming." His lecture was greeted by an ominous silence.

"Fili? Right, I'm going to box your ears when I find you, now knock it off."

The sound of creaking leather came from the trees, and Kili squinted into the darkness, his hand shooting instinctively to the hilt of his sword. Brassy tossed his head and whinnied. Taking this as a sign of alarm, Kili dropped into a defensive crouch and was surprised to hear a familiar neigh answer Brassy from the woods.

"I knew it was you, you great oaf- " Kili started, then broke off as Pluck emerged from the brush, wild-eyed, riderless, and caked with mud.

Feeling his face beginning to flush with annoyance, Kili slipped his sword back into its sheath and stalked over to Pluck. "Fili! For Aule's sake, your taste is poor if you think this is still amusing! There's a proper sense of timing needed for a good joke, you know." He still expected his brother to roll out laughing from his cover, and when Fili did not appear he felt his stomach turn over uneasily.

"Fili?" he called again, not bothering to disguise his growing disquiet. Let Fili hear the worry in his voice! He hoped it made him feel like the ass that he was. "Fili!"

Pluck was trembling. Kili approached him slowly, hand out and whispering encouragingly. Was he afraid? No, he saw with alarm, Pluck was verging on shock. He shivered and shook and was covered in a thin veil of cold sweat. Kili immediately went to him. He loosened Pluck's girth and began to rub the quivering pony down. Had Fili been thrown? With all that mud on Pluck's coat it was obvious that he had fallen somewhere, likely the small creek that ran parallel to their snares. Fili might have broken a leg or been knocked unconscious. Or perhaps he had simply been forced to walk back, having been abandoned by his tetchy mount.

Kili glanced at the magnificent deer lying at the bottom of the rise and deliberated briefly. Should he go back to get Thorin? But what if Fili needed him _now_. And what to do with that damned deer? If he left it, all of this trouble would have been for nothing. He could just see Fili, injured or not, stubbornly demanding to know why in hell his silly little brother had left their fine trophy lying out for scavengers to tear into and laughing at his overreaction.

Making up his mind, Kili tugged at Brassy's bridle and led him over to the fallen deer. He retrieved his arrow with some difficulty, and, after examining the point and wiping it with a rag, slipped it back into his quiver. He was unable to help being pleased with his shot despite his worry for his brother. It really had been flawless.

The sharp point removed, he stood behind the deer, clapping and rubbing his hands together. He bent down and hooked his arms around the its ribs, ignoring the blood that stained his sleeve. Kili was lean for a dwarf, but he was still stronger than the average human man, and with a loud grunt he hefted the huge animal up into his arms, its hind legs dragging the ground. Another grunt and heave and the deer was dangling limply across Brassy's back. The pony flicked his ears back unhappily at the sudden weight.

Kili quickly secured the stag with a series of knots, then led Brassy to where Pluck waited looking slightly more sedate. His breathing had become slower and more even, and his trembling had lessened, Kili noted. Still, it would be best if the pony found his way back to camp. He was in no condition to carry Fili when they found him. If his brother was hurt, they would simply have to sacrifice the deer to the woods after all.

They were not very far from camp here; As long as Pluck walked straight down the pass between the woods and ridge he couldn't fail to come upon the others. "Home," Kili whispered into his ear, sure that the stallion would understand. He lightly patted the fatigued pony's backside and Pluck started sedately down the wide path. The lads would make sure that he had some warm water and extra blankets once he arrived.

With Pluck taken care off and the deer secured, Kili turned his attention to the ground. Dwarves were no woodsmen, but they could follow a simple trail well enough, and Fili's pony had left a clear one. "Well, Brassy, let's go see what's what," he said, and tugged Brassy reluctantly into the trees after him.

* * *

A surly growl from behind a small boulder greeted Thorin as he neared the first of the snares. The growl ended in a snarling yelp as Dwalin lobbed his silver hip flask with satisfying accuracy from his seat on Daisy. A dark, lumbering shape withdrew into the trees, dragging behind it the mangled carcass of a fox which was still wearing a scrap of the noose that had been its downfall. The retreating badger turned its silver-striped head once to glower malevolently at the dwarves who had interrupted its meal, then disappeared with its prize.

Thorin chuckled mirthlessly and retrieved Dwalin's flask from the patch of moss where it had landed. He handed it up to him then frowned in concentration at the ground.

The boys had not been here, that much was obvious. The fox had still been in its snare and there were no tracks to be seen other than that of the thieving badger. Thorin turned in the direction of the next snare and motioned for the others to follow. Dwalin, Bofur, and Bifur were seated on their ponies while Thorin went on foot, leading Surly by the reins. He wanted to be sure that he missed no signs or tracks that might give a clue to his nephew's whereabouts.

The next snare held a rabbit. There were a few torn areas in its hide from predators, but it was acceptable enough for the stewpot. Thorin cut it down and slung it into a game back at Surly's side. Bombur would at least be able to pull off a watered-down version of rabbit stew tonight to top off the mush.

"Thorin," Dwalin called, and gestured with his heavily mailed fist. "Tracks."

Bofur dropped to the ground and Thorin strode to the area Dwalin had indicated. The rich forest soil was perforated with the sharp indentations of hooves, and the thick reindeer moss directly behind where the rabbit had been hanging was pressed down slightly, as if something large had stretched itself there.

Or two dwarf-sized somethings.

Thorin nodded to himself. They trailed after the prints until Thorin saw with some confusion that they were joined by a third set. The imprint of a large, divided hoof could now be seen intermixed with the solid U's of the ponies' tracks.

"A deer?" Thorin laughed inwardly. What opportunists they were! Of course they hadn't been able to resist the lure of so grand a creature when faced with the alternative of a paltry little rabbit. Still, how long did it take to shoot a deer with one of them an expert archer?

Bofur sidled up to Thorin, interrupting his thoughts. "Should we turn back and wait?" he asked in his gentle voice.

Thorin frowned. "No, we've come this far. They may need help getting the damn thing back to camp."

Bofur nodded sagely. "Could have gotten lost. Or..." he quickly stopped at the look on the Dwarf King's face. "Nothing," he mumbled meekly.

They resumed their trek, making good time as they read the easy trail. It was obvious enough that they never lost it, even when the brush thickened and began to press in around them. After a while Thorin called them to a halt and crouched down to study the earth.

"They've split up." he announced when he stood. "Kili's trail leads here," he motioned north-west, "And Fili has gone to the south. They're driving it." he mused.

"Whose path should we follow?"

Fili would have to be the one to drive the deer toward Kili's arrow, so it was likely that they would meet to the north. "We follow Kili." Thorin said decisively.

_With any luck_, he thought as he shouldered his way past a patch of ferns higher than his head, _we'll find those two furies laughing over tonight's dinner. And without luck... _

But that thought didn't bear thinking.

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** Your standard begging for reviews here. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN****: Someone put this story up for the Kili, Fili, and Thorin Family Fics community! Thank you! :) You're my new best buddy, whoever it was. This update was a while in coming due to my temporary distraction with a new story, and the fact that I was finding this chapter extremely difficult to write. *takes a deep breath* So, here goes...**

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It seemed to Fili at first that he had far too many heartbeats. One pounded resolutely away as it should, but the spaces between beats seemed to be filled by a second and even a third painful percussion. And it was dark. Why was it so dark?

Fili woke fully with a gasp and opened his eyes. It wasn't dark, not yet. The lethargic glow of the sun was on the wane and barely making its presence felt through the dense foliage above, but it was definitely still there and it assured him by its position that he had lost no more than a half an hour to unconsciousness.

His head was one giant mass of burning pain that radiated out from the tender base of his skull and wrapped itself in a fiery cloak around his throbbing temples. Not a second heartbeat, then; Just a ricochet of the first, reverberating around in his head.

The sound of bickering voices broke through his aching fog and garnered his attention. He studied his new surroundings with grudging interest.

In the dim light of the gloaming he saw that he was being held in a goblin camp. Lesser Snaga orcs, from the look of them. Several campfires sputtered and crackled at opposite ends of the campsite, tended by a few crouching, filthy forms that gesticulated and waved wildly to one another. Other goblins lazed about on fallen logs or piles of unceremoniously heaped clothing on the ground. The goblins tending the fires seemed to be the origin of the loud fighting that had broken through his painful reverie. Their snarled words were a mystery to him, but based on the angry gestures that they stabbed toward their cooking pots, he was able to conclude that something therein had been found wanting. Fili wondered what could possibly be so bad that it would be deemed unfit for goblin consumption.

There were no ponies to be seen, not even his own, and he thanked his stars that there were no wargs about. This band of goblins must have been traveling on foot, which meant they were likely a scouting party sent out from nearby, perhaps from under the Misty Mountains.

Fili pushed himself up with a groan. He had been tied in a sitting position with his back against a stout tree and his hands lashed cruelly behind it. His palms were wet with either blood or sweat, and his wrists burned where the ropes had bitten and chafed at his flesh. He tugged experimentally at his bonds and winced as his raw skin scraped against the rough, toothy bark.

There was a bad taste in his mouth, and Fili turned his head to spit. A glob of creek mud and blood landed at the foot of a goblin standing nearby that Fili had not at first noticed. He glanced up and it glowered, menacingly baring its fangs in a silent hiss. Its armor was ill-fitting and degenerated almost to the point of uselessness, as was that of most of the goblin horde that he had seen so far. Fili doubted that its leather breastplate could have stopped a well-aimed rock, let alone an arrow or sword, and he stored that useful bit of information away for possible future use.

The goblin that appeared to be guarding him was carrying a long spear, and after belting out a resounding screech to someone outside of Fili's line of sight, it waved it over its head in a hurrying gesture. Its garbled screeches continued until they were answered by a deeper growl, and Fili looked up as Goliath's hulking shadow fell across his splayed legs. Fili's brain whirled, striving to process the sudden reappearance of his nemesis, but it seemed that he was only up to working at half speed, and the only thought that he could come up with was a disjointed sense of pleasure as he saw that Goliath was sporting a newly acquired leather eye patch over his right eye. Fili looked down at his one remaining boot as scenes from the battle in the creek began to slowly trickle back.

"So it lives," Goliath's deep voice rumbled with pleasure. "Tell Nettor," he said to the guard, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. "He will want to question the dwarfling scum." Fili's guard scurried away at a good clip. Goliath was clearly someone that the other goblins did not want to cross.

"I had half hoped that you died." Goliath turned to address Fili, peering at him with his one reptilian eye. "But then I realized that you would have missed out on the warm welcome that we've prepared for you."

Not deigning to answer Goliath's implied threat, Fili peered around him to follow the progress of his guard. He had approached a much smaller goblin who sat apart from the rest at what seemed to be his own personal fire. After a brief exchange of words, the smaller goblin rose to follow the guard, pausing briefly on the way to shout at one of the orcs who had been arguing earlier. The chastised goblin ran to collect his iron stew pot from its three-poled stand over the fire and threw the apparently offensive contents out among the roots of the nearby trees.

This smaller goblin was different; Despite his size, Fili sensed that he was somehow more dangerous than the others. There was a sharp intelligence in his reptilian face that his fellows were lacking. His bearing was more erect and proud, with no creeping stoop to his walk, and the armor that he wore had a better fit, as if parts of it had actually been made for him and not simply scavenged from the bodies of fallen foes. An orc scimitar hung at his waist and on his back he wore a short, ebony-black bow, and Fili grimaced with distaste at the filthy arrows held in his quiver. Their shafts had a greasy, dirty sheen and the fletching was riddled with dark rot and mildew. One scrape from their filthy points could easily cause a very virulent wound. Fili thought of Kili's well-maintained arsenal with an absurd flash of pride.

The goblin approached, and Goliath placed a hulking hand at the back of Fili's head, intimating that he should bow. The new goblin must be Nettor, their leader, Fili surmised as he chose to resist Goliath's command out of sheer stubbornness. In the end, Goliath simply forced his chin down to his chest. Outraged, and with his head still held in place, Fili spat again, this time taking careful aim at the toe of one of Goliath's reeking boots, which was the only target available from his current angle.

A rasping laugh came from the goblin leader as he hovered somewhere above. Goliath released Fili abruptly and gave him a sharp kick in the ribs that sent him sprawling sideways as far as the ropes binding his wrists would allow. Fili yelped and gasped for air as his breath whooshed out in a painful rush. The sharp pain dulled into a slow burning fire, and Fili wondered if his ribs were broken.

The giant grabbed at Fili's coat and wiped his defiled boot across it, leaving a trail of bloodied saliva down the front of his proud fur collar. Fili snarled as menacingly as was possible for someone who was tied to a tree.

"Now, now." The horde leader crouched down by Fili, who wrinkled his nose as an unpleasant mixture of unwashed body, filth and rot struck him. Nettor laughed and cocked his oily head in an almost inquisitive manner, peering into Fili's pained face and grinning at what he saw there. "We'll have to break you of that nasty habit, and very slowly, I think." Fili glared back defiantly.

"I have waited so eagerly for you to wake! I've been asking myself, what is a dwarf doing in our forest?" Coldly calculating eyes bore into Fili's as though the answer could be found written on his soul. That cunning gaze alarmed the young dwarf more than Goliath's size and brutality had managed to.

Fili decided that it would be wise to stick to partial bits of the truth. "I was hunting a stag." He made no mention of the trap line and snares, realizing that they would be a give away of the fact that others of his kind were set up in a camp nearby.

The goblin narrowed his eyes skeptically. "Dwarves don't travel alone. There must be others. Where is your group?"

"There are no others. There is only me."

Fili thought that he saw genuine amusement in the goblin's expression, as if he were enjoying some secret game. "That really doesn't seem very wise. So, here sits a lone dwarf, who tells me that it was hunting a stag... and yet it has no bow?" Nettor grinned slyly and brandished his own filthy weapon under Fili's nose.

The bow was poorly kept and not much to look at, but it would surely bring down more game than a lone dwarf with only a pony and a pair of swords. Fili cursed himself for his stupidity. Of course he wouldn't have gone after a swiftly moving deer without a long range weapon. "I lost it," he countered sullenly. "In the creek."

Nettor turned to Goliath and spat something out in their unintelligible tongue. Goliath answered, and Fili's interrogator returned his attention to their discussion. "It appears that no one else saw you carrying anything more than a pair of swords. So I ask you again, what would a lone dwarf with no bow want with an entire stag? Surely some rabbit or grouse would have been enough to fill up even a _dwarf's_ belly. I think," he said with slow menace, "That you lie."

Fili scrambled to think up some believable reason for his hunt. "I travel to Rivendell. I wanted the trophy as a token of peace. The elves there have no love for my kind."

"Nor have we," Nettor leered, cackling. The guard had returned to Fili's side and at this little witticism joined Nettor with a raucous crow, jabbing the former's injured ribs with the filthy point of his spear for emphasis.

Nettor cut his eyes slyly to Goliath before continuing his interrogation in a sickeningly honeyed voice. "Who is 'Kili'? If you travel alone, why does my captain tell me that you called this name when he brought you down?"

Fili's eyes widened in alarm. Had he said Kili's name? He couldn't remember. He must have, he realized with shame. If they went looking for Kili because of his moment of weakness...

Fili lifted his chin and affected a bravado that he didn't feel. Nettor's malicious, laughing eyes sobered and the leer slid from his face. Now his bulbous eyes glittered dangerously, and Fili could see the cruelty behind them. "This dwarf is not ready to talk yet. Notify me when he becomes more... submissive."

An open handed blow to his cheek took Fili by surprise and he cried out before he could stop himself. Nettor turned back down the path in an apparent dismissal of his prisoner, and his retreating back was eclipsed by Goliath as the giant stepped between them. Fili's heart beat frantically as he understood what had passed between his captors; Nettor had just given his attack dog free rein. Fili closed his eyes and bit his lip, determined not to let another sound escape no matter what punishment the giant doled out. Goliath seemed to take his silence as a personal challenge, and his next blow was a stunningly brutal closed fist driven into Fili's right temple.

Fili managed to make only a silent gasp as his head rocketed sharply to the left and the side of his face ricocheted violently off the trunk of the tree. He felt his cheek split open on the rough bark and watched in a detached way as blood spattered the furs on his coat. _That probably won't come out,_ he thought, and laughed deliriously as his vision swam.

Goliath stepped back from the strange, laughing dwarf. _It should be afraid, _he seethed. _It should be quaking with fear._

Goliath came at him again with a fervor born of annoyance and frustration. This time relentless punches rained down into Fili's face and his lips were left slashed and bleeding as the colossal fists mashed them against his teeth; A thumb ground mercilessly into his eye, and every strike was doubled as the back of his head rebounded remorselessly against the trunk behind him. His already flaming ribs were struck again and again until a small geyser of blood sprayed from his mouth and he was unable to hold himself quiet any longer. An incoherent sob ripped free from his wounded lips. He hardly knew what he had called out. The words were unimportant; Only the fact that he had failed to keep his silence mattered to him at all.

Fili tried to look up but was no longer sure which direction that might be. A warm, fuzzy haze settled over his vision and a tingling red-black cloud began to bloom at the corners. A hot, fetid smell assaulted his senses as a derisive laugh came from almost directly beside him.

"I knew you could be taught," hissed Goliath, his wet breath huffing against Fili's ear. The orc's voice oozed self -satisfaction. "You only needed the right teacher."

Through the growing haze, Fili saw Goliath drew back his fist. _Let this one end it,_ he thought through a briefly rolling blackout. He fought his way back to reality and rode out another wave of pain. _Let him go too far and end it all before he can make me talk. _

Because he _would_ talk, Fili realized. Before Goliath's brutal life lesson he had mistakenly thought that he would be strong enough to stand stoic and silent when faced with such abuse. He knew now that it had been a foolish assumption made in the naivete of youth. The reality was that with the right pressure and enough time, he would eventually tell them anything that they wanted to know. He would give up Thorin, he would give up the location of their camp...

He would give up his brother.

Fili closed his eyes.

_Aule, please, let this end now..._

* * *

**PS****: I'm super nervous when it comes to action/violence scenes, so I'm literally ****_begging_**** for some constructive feedback & criticism. Pointers, loves, dislikes, your feelings on Aidan Turner's hair, ****_anything_****. **

**Missing Kili and Thorin? Don't worry, they're still around. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: OK, I'm ever so fearfully committing myself to a certain chain of events in this chapter, hoping that I've got the timing right. Thank you so, so much to everyone who reviewed and bolstered my confidence on the last chapter! I tend towards snark, fluff, and humor, so writing action/violence is pretty new to me. I don't want to be too rough on my boys, though, so let's get this ball rolling! (Even if it winds up going off track a bit)**

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Kili's blood ran cold. That had always seemed like an empty expression to him, for how could warm blood simply change its state? But now, as he stopped sharply at the top of the small rise above the boggy brook where Pluck's back trail had led them, an icy chill descended and left him numb and reeling.

There were orc tracks everywhere. The only clear prints at all were Pluck's, which had led him back to this stinking pit where his brother had-

_No! Don't think that. Don't you _dare_ think that!_

Kili forced himself to move down the muddy slope, leaving Brassy and the deer above. _You have to look,_ he thought, feeling dazed. _What if Fili is lying out there, hurt, and waiting for you to find him? What if-_

He slammed the door on that thought and leapt the rest of the way down. His heart was hammering in his chest as he neared the water's edge, and he began to pace the bank, searching the reed-choked, peaty shore for any sign of his brother or any set of tracks that might break away from the chaotic mire and lead to him, but there were no separate trails on this side of the creek beside Pluck's. Any answers to his brother's fate would have to be looked for on the opposite bank.

Kili was careful not to let the gluey mud pull his boots from his feet as he waded into the deeper water of the creek. He had seen no sign of blood on the bank, and if there had been any spilled here it would have been lost to the water. He couldn't rely on that for a basis of hope.

Looking farther out, his eye was caught by a fleeting flash. Something glimmered dully beneath the surface. Kili lunged toward it and stretched his arm down until the freezing water was up to his shoulder and soaking his cloak and tunic. He cast about in the muck, wrinkling his nose at the thick, gaseous smells that his questing fingers released from the organic brine, and hissed as his hand ran up against something sharp and solid. He fumbled for the object, ignoring the sting of what was sure to be a decent sized gash across his palm and pulled a straight, meticulously honed blade from its sheath of mud. His heart sank as he recognized the uniquely grooved design that adorned his brother's blade.

If Fili was without his weapons...

He pushed the thought away once more and threw up a wall to keep it out. There was no sign of Fili and so Fili was alive, Fili was waiting, he was just-

Kili's stumbled as his foot caught on something else in the mud. He reached down and dragged Fili's boot up out of the muck. "Fili," he breathed. His eyes stung but he would not allow tears. Not without some proof.

Cradling his precious finds, Kili pushed on to the southern bank and dragged himself onto firmer ground. The tracks here were still too convoluted for him to follow, so he fanned out away from the water's edge in search of the goblin's entrance and exit. He finally struck upon their back trail, which led roughly south. Fili must have met up with them when he went to drive the deer, Kili reasoned, then fled here on Pluck before becoming stuck in the stream. The only thing that he could read for sure in their trail was that the goblins had returned the same way that they had come.

There was only one thing that Kili could think to do, and that was to follow. If he went for help, there was no telling what might happen to his brother in the meantime.

He dashed back to Brassy, who was still watching him from the small ridge. Kili tied Fili's sword and boot onto a side strap and urged the pony downstream a ways until it seemed possible for him to pass without becoming stuck. As Brassy splashed through the stony shallows, Kili saw a dark lump bobbing among the roots of an oak that had stretched itself thirstily into the water.

_No no no no no...That's not what you think it is, That's not him,_ Kili chanted mentally as he pulled Brassy to the side and plunged forward. As he reached the oak, he belted out a laugh that bordered on the edge of hysteria. Goblins! Not his brother, but the bodies of two filthy, stinking goblins! One was sporting a smashed-in nose and the other was without a head, and Kili thought he knew who might have been responsible for their current sorry conditions.

So there had been a fight, that much was obvious. His brother had taken two of the bastards down and was missing, but Pluck had managed to escape. It wasn't very likely that the goblins would bother to haul a dead dwarf back to their camp, so Fili must still be alive! They must have been afraid that his missing horse would alert any others that Fili might have been traveling with to his situation and bring them to search the woods. It was likely that they had taken him back to question, hoping to find his camp before that happened.

With hope renewed, Kili cut back around the shore, leading Brassy, and picked up the orcs' trail. He would find his brother, and to hell with everything else.

* * *

The sun was making its final descent in the sky, and beneath the dim cover of swaying oaks it was becoming difficult for the dwarf search party to discern Kili's trail. A confusion of tracks littered the ground, and Thorin was at a loss as to what to make of them.

"Spread out," he commanded tersely, and with the others plunged down the bank to circle around the mess.

While following Kili's trail north, the four dwarves had caught sight of Pluck ambling slowly back toward camp through a break in the trees. Fili was nowhere to be seen, and after ascertaining that the exhausted pony could offer them no further clues, they had allowed Pluck to continue on to the campsite. The worried dwarves had then followed the path back to the rocky scarp where Kili had waited to ambush the deer, and had seen the small pool of blood where it had fallen after he shot it. After that, things had stopped making sense. Instead of heading back to camp with his prize, Kili had taken it and Brassy back into the woods. Why hadn't Fili met up with them there? They should have been headed back to camp together, in the same direction that Pluck had been going.

Thorin led the others into the woods after his nephew once more, this time with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that had nothing to do with his growing hunger.

Now they stood on the same rise where Kili had been an hour before, peering down from among the trees in horror at what they saw. The tracks, most definitely those of a band of goblins, were grouped tightly more or less within a circle around the small bog. Thorin and the others traced around the outside, all coming to the same conclusion; The goblins had come and gone by the same route, and nowhere could his nephew's footprints be distinguished from amid their myriad of prints.

What could that mean? Both Pluck and Brassy had clearly been through here; Had the lads been together then, and had they even been there at the same time as the orcs? Thorin shook his head. He was not enough of a woodsman to read the answers he craved in this stinking mess of earth. All he knew was that there were no bodies, and that the orcs would have stripped them of their weapons and left them where they had fallen had Fili and Kili been killed here. Thorin was not optimistic enough to believe that they had simply crossed paths at different times. They must have been involved in the fray; dumb luck and chance were not likely enough to rely on.

His one consolation was this; If the goblins had taken the boys with them, it was because they were still alive. There was no other reason. It was a cold comfort, but the thin scrim of hope that it afforded him was better than none at all.

"Thorin," Bofur called. He was standing with his cousin over to one side of the orc's trail with a timid smile and his mild eyes sparkling hopefully. "I think you should see this." Bifur laughed a little oddly, and Bofur placed a gently restraining hand on his cousin's shoulder.

Thorin joined the pair on a thick carpet of vibrant green moss. Cut sharply into the verdant expanse were hoof-prints, heading to the south. _Brassy!_ Thorin realized incredulously. Something very close to pride flared like a wildfire in his chest. He wouldn't discount his lads yet!

The pony's trail continued, and where it bisected the path of the goblins, Brassy's prints remained clearly on top; Kili had followed this way _after_ the orcs, and he must have been free at the time.

The slim flare of hope that had sparked in Thorin's heart dwindled down to a flicker. What did the fool boy hope to achieve alone against an army of twenty or more goblins? It would be just like Kili to leap from the bushes, brandishing his sword and expecting to take on the lot of them single-handed and instead getting himself killed.

Swallowing this last tiny flame, Thorin hardened his face into a featureless mask. They had to catch up to Kili before he found his way to that camp. Both boys lives very likely depended on it.

"Ride hard!" he called, swinging himself up onto Surly's back and digging in his heels without wasting time on explanations. King and pony surged ahead, and the others hastily scrambled to mount and follow. The quartet thundered down the orc-trampled trail, beards and braids flying like banners over their shoulders. Thorin silently prayed with all of his heart that they wouldn't be too late.

* * *

The seconds ticked by and no finishing blow came. Fili wasn't sure how long he waited before deducing that something must have occurred to deflect it. Through the pounding rush of blood in his ears he heard raised goblin voices in the distance and he wrenched his eyes back open.

Goliath was gone, and without him there to block his view Fili could see that total pandemonium had broken out in the camp below.

Goblins were locked together in animated scuffles, shouting and yelling and hurling any object within arm's reach at one another. Some rushed about grabbing up spears and bows, and a few shoving matches had broke out near one of the fires. Nettor stood in their midst, observing the chaos with a coolly appraising eye, and motioning for his second to join him.

Goliath had hastened down the hill path to his leader's side as soon as the fighting had broken out, cutting short Fili's painful 'lesson'.

"The stag!" came a cry. "The dwarf tells the truth, there is a stag near!"

_The stag?_ Fili thought through his pained daze. What the hell was going on? Hadn't Kili managed to shoot that damned thing after all that he had been through? A slightly crazed laugh escaped his ruined lips and his guard sidled nervously away. Truly, this yellow dwarf was mad.

A chorus of plaintive voices broke out below. "We saw it! We needs food! We ain't 'et for days!"

"Quiet!" Goliath roared. "You fools won't get a shred if you don't shut your gobs!"

He grabbed one of the tussling orcs from amid a tangle of flailing scrawny arms and legs and heaved it across the campground. The wailing orc hit the ground with a startled "Whuff!" as the wind was knocked from him and he found himself staring at the black toes of Nettor's boots.

Nettor moved swiftly, whipping his hooked, curved blade from his belt in one smooth motion, and cleanly beheaded the prostrate orc. The unfortunate goblin's head was sent rolling, and flung a trail of black ichor from its severed neck across the trampled ground before fetching up against the side of a stone fire ring with a meaty thud. A thick silence descended over the camp.

"Perhaps one of you has something of _sense_ that they would like to say," said Nettor quietly. His voice carried easily to the edges of the frozen camp despite his dangerously low tone. No one answered.

Finally, from the bottom of the pile of remaining tangled orcs came a pleading voice.

"It went for the wide end of the creek!" cried the only orc foolhardy enough to speak up after Nettor's cruel display. "We can trap it there! It'll bog down or turn back, and either way we can be waiting!"

"So you're hungry," Nettor hissed scathingly, kicking aside the floundering underling. "Do you expect me to feed you? Are you weak little babes that need to be coddled and spoon fed?"

Heads shook violently in denial.

"No? Then do something about it! Get the damned deer!"

There was a combined roar and the flurry of activity renewed, this time with no fights or arguments, and half of the camp organized itself into a wall of armed hunters. They fanned out into the woods and tramped off until Fili could no longer hear their hungry cackles and jeers.

Calm settled over the remaining goblins once their fellows had gone. Most drifted off to the outskirts of the encampment to rest until the hunters could return with fresh meat. A few returned to stoking the fires in the hopes that there would shortly be a roast hanging over them. Nettor and Goliath stood to one side for a long while, discussing Aule knew what. Finally Nettor dismissed his giant and settled down at his own fireside and seemed to go to sleep.

Goliath was returning. Fili swallowed roughly and pushed back at the sudden jolt of nerves that threatened to overrun his sense. _Get him mad,_ Fili coached himself. _Get him angry enough to finish the job before the other comes back._ Goliath was all fists and no thought, but if their cunning leader were allowed another chance with him then he was sure that, even if he did not break, he would slip up at some point and endanger everyone that he loved.

Fili straightened up, knowing that the easiest way to enrage the giant was a display of unbending pride. He hissed at the pain his movement caused and almost missed the sound of an early evening owl calling from the trees beyond the camp.

A brown owl. _There _are_ no brown owls this far north..._

His heart rocketed a mile in his chest before the gravity of the situation brought it crashing back down. _Kili!_ he wanted to scream, _Get out of here, you damned fool! _What the hell was his brother thinking? Had he gone back for the others? Was he here alone?

A sharp clarity was returning, and Fili was able to analyze his many hurts. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs as far as he was able. There was no sharp, splintered feeling in his side, only a heated, dull ache. His ribs were bruised, but not broken. His head pounded, his lips were split and bleeding, and one eye was rapidly beginning to swell shut. Wiggling his hands behind him brought bad news. The biting ropes had cut off all feeling from his wrist down; Even if he were freed, if it came to a fight, he wouldn't be able to hold a weapon.

He very much hoped that Kili wasn't here alone.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: (There was some whining here about my perceived chapter inadequacies, but I took it down because, let's face it, no one likes a whiner.) On with the chapter! :)**

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If Kili's blood had run cold before, it was boiling now. He was scowling through the limbs of a oak, staring out across the goblin camp where his brother was being held on a low hill. The body of a goblin lookout was laid out at the foot of the tree, an arrow protruding from the ichor-crusted socket of one eye. Kili had shot for the brain to ensure an instant death; He couldn't afford any warning screams, as much as he would have liked to hear them coming from the throat of one of the scum that had taken Fili captive.

He shifted uncomfortably in his tree. After finding the camp, Kili had tethered Brassy a ways off so that no tell-tale nickers or whinnies would reach the ears of the goblins in the clearing. The lookout had been easy enough to spot, and Kili had taken him out while the creature sat busily questing about in one snot-encrusted nostril with the nock-end of a filthy arrow.

Fili was slumped over, unconscious and tied to a tree. Even though his brother's condition certainly wasn't ideal, Kili had been so relieved to see that he was alive that he had almost cried out with joy. A lone, relatively unimposing spearman stood guard beside him at the top of the hill, but the camp itself held a total of almost thirty goblins. Kili's heart sank as he counted. Thirty, filthy, murderous goblins between him and his brother, and what did he have? A horse, a deer, a few arrows, and a sword.

One among the goblins stood out in particular; He was massive, easily the largest goblin that Kili had ever laid eyes on. Taller than Gandalf and more powerfully built than Dwalin, the giant goblin seemed to be acting as overseer, walking about and stopping here and there to give orders or reprimands. There was an air of unquestionable menace about him, and Kili thought that he must be the one in charge.

A sudden shout from the spear-carrying goblin on the hill sent Kili scurrying down from the oak with his heart thudding in his chest, certain that he had been seen. When after a moment it became clear that he hadn't, he hunkered down in the bushes to think. There were far too many goblins for him to handle alone, but what might happen to Fili in the meantime if he went back for Thorin and the others? Once his brother woke up, he was sure to be questioned, and probably none too gently. Kili's jaw tightened at the thought.

The dead lookout was spread eagle beside him. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Kili leaned over and yanked his arrow free from its skull, grunting in annoyance as the tip hung up briefly on a ridge of bone. His eyes fell on its motly leather quiver. He would likely need more arrows and here were a dozen, not counting the one that had been used for the goblin's nose-mining expedition, which Kili flatly refused to touch. They were all in such poor condition that he was half afraid that the wooden shafts would splinter the second he loosed one from his bow, but there was nothing else for it. They would have to do. He scooped them up and added them to his own.

He was startled from his calculations by a splashing sound to his immediate right, and he melted back into the trees with a surprised hiss. A hot, foul smell wafted up from some liquid that had been thrown out among the roots of a tree at the edge of the camp. Some had splattered almost on top of the body of the slain lookout, and through a gap in the brush Kili saw a goblin walking away from the boiling mess carrying an empty cooking pot. It had been a near miss and Kili's heart hammered wildly. _If that's what's for supper, no wonder they're such a miserable lot,_ he thought as the putrid smell hit him again. Most of the goblins around the fires had been bickering, he remembered, and the entire camp had a lean, hungry look.

He risked another glance through the branches and saw that Fili was now awake and the giant goblin from the camp was standing over him. The guard had called for him when Fili woke, Kili realized.

There was a movement on the hill path, and nearing the summit was the smallest goblin that Kili had ever seen. As the new arrival approached, Kili watched with silent outrage as the giant forced his brother's head down to his chest in a shameful bow. Something happened that Kili couldn't quite make out, and he felt his face go hot with boiling rage as the giant aimed a heavy kick at Fili's ribs, sending him careening sideways until the ropes binding his wrists tightened and stopped him from falling.

_I'll kill you, you filthy scum._ Kili thought, righteous blood pounding in his head. _I'll kill you for that, and very soon._

He never knew how he managed to stay quiet. The blinding rage that came over him at his brother's pained cry almost sent him bolting from the woods to rain down blows on any orc unfortunate enough to be in his path, and only the dim thought of getting Fili out alive kept him from what would have been a fatal mistake. _That won't save him,_ he breathed, forcing himself to be still. _If you want to save Fili, you have to think. _He had to act now. His brother couldn't afford for him to waste any more time. But what could he do? There were so many of them...

He had to do something to reduce their numbers, he realized. Could he use Brassy to draw them off? No, a riderless pony randomly appearing in the woods would put even a goblin on alert. They would know that another dwarf must be nearby, and they would search him out. They might even use Fili to try to _draw_ him out.

_Think, think!_ he hissed in frustration. The small goblin was crouched down now, speaking to Fili, who had proudly struggled back into a sitting position. _You have a pony, and you have a deer... _

His eyes narrowed in what his brother would have recognized as his mischief-plotting expression as a hazy idea began to take shape. The hungry goblins, the putrid stew... _It could work,_ he thought with a desperate optimism. _It could just work._

He took off for Brassy at a dead run.

At that moment, unseen by Kili, Nettor had cut short his interrogation as Goliath began Fili's crash-course education in brutality.

The pony was tethered to his tree and still bearing the load of the great stag that Kili had, in his earlier panic upon finding the goblin tracks at the stream, foolishly left tied to his back. If the young dwarf had been thinking clearly, he would have cut the deer free and rode the pony hard to the camp, saving valuable time. But fate often takes pity on fools, and it was this mistake that now gave him his greatest hope.

Kili cut down the deer and set to work, slashing and sawing through tough sinews and hide. When he had finished his improvisational butchery, he left the stag's naked remains lying forgotten on the forest floor and approached Brassy holding the jagged, bloody skin and antlers.

After removing Brassy's saddle and carrying packs, Kili draped the skin across the pony's back and up over his head and neck, tying it securely to the harness to keep the huge rack from slipping askew. A few more knots beneath his belly held the rest of the hide firmly in place. Brassy laid his ears back at the scent of the blood that now covered him and danced with instinctual fear.

Kili stepped back to study his handiwork with a critical eye and found the overall effect quite macabre. Up close, it was exactly what it appeared to be; a badly skinned deer carcass lashed to a shaggy pony. But from a distance, he thought that it might pass muster well enough to fool a pack of ravenous goblins. Unmindful of the blood that stained his hands, Kili went to Brassy and stroked the faithful animal's muzzle. He knew that it could very well be the last time that he ever saw the poor creature.

"I'm sorry Brassy. I need you to run now. Run fast, run hard, and whatever you do, don't stop!" He gave the poor, startled pony a last regretful pat and then followed up with a hard, stinging slap on the rump. Brassy was shocked at such rough treatment from his usually gentle rider. The blow combined with the fresh smell of blood that covered him was too much, and, snorting with alarm, he dove into the trees, flying directly toward the goblin camp in the wood.

It seemed to Kili that everything began to happen very quickly.

Fili let out his unwilling scream as just as Brassy made his opening appearance as King-of-the-Forest, galloping along in full view on the outskirts of the camp.

Goliath raised his fist above Fili for one final blow.

Then the uproar began. Chaos reigned as goblins pushed and shoved to catch a glimpse of the glorious meal-on-hoof that had manifested almost on top of them. Some of the more industrious hunters ran for spears and bows, and fights broke out among those tending the cook-pots over who would get first choice of the meat. Brassy swung back around, and the tumultuous clamor doubled in its intensity as they realized that the stag would be trapped between them and the stream. The temptation was too much for their starving bellies to withstand.

Kili had returned, and was watching from the trees. His face was rigid with tension, and he trembled with righteous anger when he saw Goliath check his intended blow to join Nettor at the center of the upheaval that had broken out below. Slipping stealthily through the brush, he began to make his way around the camp toward the backside of Fili's hill. With every painfully slow step, he prayed that Brassy could lead enough of the goblins astray that he might have a fighting chance to free his brother.

Fifteen of the starving vermin grabbed their gear and charged out of camp after the panicked pony. That left fifteen in the camp, although it appeared that someone had done Kili the favor of beheading one already.

_It will have to be enough,_ he thought, with grim determination.

* * *

The search party had hardly left the stream when they were met with a most astounding sight.

Alerted by a noise ahead in the woods, Thorin swiftly called the company to a halt. They stood stock-still, listening as a rapid pounding of hooves was followed by an unmistakable din that could only be the combined roar of a horde of goblins.

Without discussion, the seasoned warriors divided along the path and melted into the trees, weapons at the ready and terrible expressions on their faces. A minute stretched into a lifetime before the source of the disturbance made its appearance.

A stag was careening madly down the path straight for them, and for one second Thorin was sure that it must be the same that his lads had been hunting before remembering that Kili had already brought it down. The hidden dwarves received a second shock as the 'deer' passed through the midst of their ambush and they got a clear look at the creature.

_It was a pony,_ Thorin thought wildly in the moment just before all hell broke loose and the goblins roared around the bend. _It was Brassy under that thing, I know that it was._

The dwarf company leapt from behind their trees with a herald of battle cries, blades flashing as they swung in for the kill.

* * *

There had been no contest; The goblins had been caught completely off guard and were weak with hunger. Thorin's party had sliced through them like a scythe parting grass. The bodies of fallen goblins littered the ground. Not one had escaped.

Dwalin kicked aside a dented helmet and buried his axe in the head of a feebly moving goblin. Bifur's demented laugh as the goblin hissed its last, foul breath was oddly fitting.

"The damn things don' want to die," Dwalin complained, moving on to his next twitching victim. A whistling thud announced another swift end. "There. Fifteen's my final count, and good riddance to the filth." He spat at the ground.

Thorin was cleaning his axe blade on the ratty tunic of a fallen goblin when Bofur returned from the the creek leading none other than a mud-covered Brassy. The trembling pony was still dressed in his King-of-the-Forest garb, although his proud rack was leaning drunkenly. Thorin looked up in confusion.

"I _knew_ that I saw him. Why in hell is he wearing _that_?" He poked at the antlers. The rope that was holding them finally gave way and they slipped from his head. Brassy shook his mane with obvious relief. Thorin was thoughtful as he stroked the pony's whiskered muzzle. "Kili, what're you up to, lad?" he questioned the air. Bofur shook his head. He was at as much of a loss to explain the pony's costume as Thorin.

Carrying an armful of spears and blades that he had salvaged from the goblin corpses, Dwalin stopped to join the others in their contemplation of Brassy's strange uniform. Always pragmatic, he shook his head. "There's no tellin' what that barmy lad's done now, we'd best plow on ahead to find out."

Thorin nodded, his mind whirling with a hundred different scenarios, none of them good. He looked up and froze. Mixed in with the goblin weapons that Dwalin carried was one of Fili's twin blades. Wordlessly, he stood and slipped the weapon gently from Dwalin's surprised hand. Bofur swallowed hard when he saw the easily recognizable cast lines that ran along its sides.

"Mount up," Thorin commanded grimly. If any harm had come to Kili or Fili, he wouldn't rest until the ground was saturated with the black blood of those responsible.

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**PS: Now I'm going back over to my other funny/fluffy little Kili/Fili story 'Ain't Nobody Who Can Sing Like Me'. Ah, fluff and humor... I loves me fluff. Check it out! (end of shameless self-promotion)**


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Absolutely mammoth chapter! Enjoy! (And maybe review?)**

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Brassy had done his job well. Kili crept around the outskirts of the camp with a purpose now, no longer lost to indecision. After the pony's little ruse in the stag skin, the goblins had sent out a larger force than Kili had dared hope, bringing the number that remained in the camp down to a possibly manageable fifteen. Fourteen, really, since their cowardly, slinking leader had apparently done him the favor of beheading one. Kili had nearly laughed aloud when he saw the unlucky cretin's head lying an inconvenient distance from its body.

He moved carefully, keeping one arrow nocked and ready, and made his way around the clearing for the hill where Fili was being held. If luck stayed with him, he would be able to sneak up, quietly take out the lone guard, and cut Fili free. They could slip away and be halfway back to Thorin and the others before any of the goblins were the wiser.

He drew even with a sleeping goblin who was lying on its back and snoring. It was temptingly close to the trees; If he could stealthily take out even a few of the scum before he made it around to Fili, it would greatly increase their odds of escape. Aiming at the goblin's ear, Kili pulled back and let fly. His aim was impeccable, and the goblin died without ever opening its eyes, the arrow lodged perfectly through the ear canal and into its brain. There was no cry of alarm or pain.

He continued on to the next. Five more goblins Kili managed to take down, just as silently as the first, aiming for eyes and ears and anything that would be instantly lethal. One convulsed briefly after he botched a shot and his arrow entered too low, just below the eye socket. He sucked in a agonized breath and quickly surveyed the remaining goblins, but none had noticed, and the victim twitched its last and thankfully expired without another sound.

Kili had killed six sleeping goblins and was finally behind the hill. He could just make out the shape of his brother at the top, sitting straight and proud. He let out a soft, cooing hoot, that of a brown owl just rising for the evening. Fili would understand and be ready. He crawled up the backside of the hill, creeping on his belly, and pulled out Fili's blade that he had recovered from the creek. He had just emerged behind Fili's tree, unseen by the guard, when he caught sight of Goliath returning up the path. Their time had just run out. So much for a stealthy retreat.

Desperately, Kili launched himself from his hidden spot on the ground and neatly sliced the rope that bound Fili's hands behind him. He heard his brother gasp out his name, but had no time to spare for a backwards look. Using all of his forward momentum, Kili pivoted into a spinning upper sweep of his brother's blade and cleaved into the head of the spear-carrying guard before he could do more than turn in confusion. The blade lodged in its skull and set Kili off balance as the body fell, tugging the sword, and him, along with it. The second that it took for Kili to dislodge his weapon cost him dearly, as Goliath sprinted the rest of the way up path with a roar and charged him. The giant slammed into him, and Kili was sent flying. He landed hard beside Fili, who was painfully climbing to his feet.

The sword had fallen from Kili's hand. Advancing on the struggling dwarves, Goliath kicked it aside and it skittered down the path and disappeared beneath a pile of leaf litter and brush. His cold, reptilian eyes settled on Kili.

"Fili!" Kili cried, scooting back against the tree. "Grab the damn sword!" Goliath bent over him, lashing out with a short dagger. Kili swung at Goliath, blocking the knife, but landing only a glancing blow on a jaw that was almost as large as his entire head. As he swung, he rolled, and knocked the giant's legs out from under him. Kili scrambled to his feet as the goblin went down and his eyes widened in shock as he took in the injuries that had been visited on his brother while he had been preparing Brassy for his part. Those marks were all _his_ fault, because he had taken so long to come to his aid. "Fili," he breathed, guilt and anguish shining in his eyes.

"Look out, you fool!" Fili yelled, and hurled himself past his brother, arms tucked in to his chest and using his shoulder to ram Goliath, who had regained his footing. Goliath took the hit with a neat spin, allowing Fili to stumble past with little impact.

Kili pulled his own sword, but before he could free it, Goliath rounded on him and lashed out with a sideways kick that caught him in the gut. Gasping, he tottered back several steps toward the short drop at the side of the path, where he windmilled his arms absurdly for a moment before toppling over the brink.

_Classic,_ he thought wryly, and then he hit the ground.

Fili had fallen to his knees after Goliath had dodged his attack. He pushed himself up on hands that tingled with pins and needles of returning circulation in time to see Kili disappear over the edge.

"Kili!" He threw himself down the path, screaming his brother's name. A gleam of metal caught his eye from under a bush, and he paused just long enough to paw for his fallen sword with a wooden hand. He was no good to Kili unarmed.

It was only a short hill, but the clash with Goliath had drawn the attention of the five goblins below. Kili had had the wind knocked out of him and there was a tinny ringing in his ears from cracking his head off the ground, but the sight of the advancing goblins jolted him into action. Judging by their indignant howls of rage, they had discovered the demise of their sleeping companions and taken it personally. Struggling to catch a full breath, Kili fumbled at his side and managed to yank his sword free just as the nearest goblin reached him. He raised his blade in time to awkwardly block a strike that would have otherwise taken off the top of his head, but a mailed fist from another direction snaked past his guard and caught him squarely in his unprotected face.

Momentarily stunned, Kili went down on one knee. Eager to take advantage of his stumble, the second goblin leaped at him, wielding its sword high overhead, and Kili's vision cleared in time to see the dirt-streaked blade arcing toward him. He had hardly time enough to register a fleeting disappointment that his death would come so easily before a second blade miraculously appeared above to parry the first. The attacking goblin recoiled as the blades clashed together with bone-shattering force, and Fili used the moment to reach down and haul his brother up by the arm.

"Come on, little brother, you can't leave me to finish this alone!"

Kili laughed, stupid with relief over his close call, and rejoined the fray, taking up a guarding position at his brother's back.

Divided, each brother's concern for the other's well being left them dangerously distracted and put them at a disadvantage. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with. They were so attuned to the other that they ducked and blocked and parried with eerie ease, as though they had rehearsed every move and memorized them for this very moment. Never were either of them left unguarded.

Fili held his blade awkwardly, using both hands to cleave at his foes, but at least the feeling had returned enough that he could tell he held it at all. Before, it had felt like he was clutching at air. Behind him, Kili whirled madly in his own chaotic, deadly dance. His unflagging energy and agility had always served him well, and they were his strongest assets in any fight.

Kili turned to face down a goblin armed with a set of long, serrated daggers, purposely leaving his left side unprotected to tempt a second goblin within his range. The first goblin struck wildly, and Kili scoffed at its lack of discipline. With an easy swipe of his sword, both daggers were sent flying, along with the clenched fists that were still gripping their handles. The now hand-less goblin shrieked in outrage and stumbled away, waving the spurting stumps of its arms before its agonized eyes.

As he dismembered the first goblin, the second made its move. It brought its sword up in a jabbing motion aiming for Kili's ribs. Kili had been courting the attack, and swung his sword one-handed in a full circle to catch the hilt, knocking it aside. He withdrew a dagger from his belt as he turned and thrust it back-hand toward the goblin's face, burying it up to the hilt in its bulbous eye. The yowling creature clutched at the dagger and Kili slid it out of the socket with a liquid, meaty dragging noise, like someone grinding a fist into the wet hull of a melon. The goblin's intensified scream was cut short as Kili sliced through its windpipe before kicking it away.

During this time, there had been no sign of Nettor. He had not been among those that Kili had picked off before Fili's rescue, nor was he with those that fought them now. Aware of his smaller, weaker stature, he had likely slunk off and left Goliath and the others to deal with the pair of furious dwarves who had hurled themselves into their midst.

Fili had taken down two and had managed to become locked in a hand-to-hand struggle with a third when Goliath made his reappearance. Kili saw him coming and turned to greet him with a sneer. "You show up now, when the others have fallen? Did you hope that they would do your work for you? What lazy filth you are!" he jeered.

Goliath's answering strike was slow, and Kili, predicting his move, avoided it easily. He danced away as Goliath continued to swing at him, keeping just outside of the infuriated giant's reach. He was so focused on leading Fili's torturer that he failed to notice he was steadily moving away from his brother.

Fili felt his absence, but could do nothing to halt Kili. The goblin he fought had snaked its arm across his throat from behind and was pulling him back toward a fire-pit. Fili waited until they were close enough, then abruptly stopped struggling forward and instead threw himself back, sending them both into the fire. The goblin warbled a agonized screech as it hit the hot coals. Its squirming body protecting Fili from the worst of the heat, although a few flames caught at his golden hair and beard. He beat them out as soon as he had pushed himself clear of the pit and the flaming goblin, and wrinkled his nose as a smell like scorched, rotten meat filled the camp.

As Fili had added his final foe to the fire, Kili had charged the giant.

Goliath was ready for the dwarf to strike, and he brought his sword up with all of his considerable strength, bringing Kili to a crashing stop that spun him completely around. Before he could right himself, there was a piercing, warning whistle, and Kili felt something strike the heel of his boot. A glance down showed him a goblin arrow lodged there, and he squinted into the trees for its source. Goliath took advantage of his distraction and shot a massive fist out to wrap around his throat. Lifting the struggling dwarf easily, he hurled Kili across the clearing.

Kili's back struck a tree and the force of it brought swimming visions of stars up before his eyes. He shook them away and looked about wildly for either sword or dagger, but both had abandoned him upon impact. He saw his sword, only a yard away, but it was a yard too far.

Goliath poised above him, preparing to bring his own sword down in a two-handed, skewering strike. Kili used his only available weapon; sweeping an arrow from over his shoulder, he thrust it blindly forward as he darted between the giant's spread legs.

Goliath roared and dropped his sword. The arrow had threaded itself through the back of his hand, tearing tendons and snapping metacarpals. Kili made a move for the fallen blade, but before he could close his hand around the hilt, Goliath's vise-like grip tightened once more around his throat and pulled him back. He struggled and threw punches wildly, but the outraged giant seemed to feel them no more than the wind. Using his teeth, Goliath pushed the arrow the rest of the way through his skewered hand, then flexed his fingers experimentally. He raised Kili up until he was eye level, his toes a foot from the ground and ridiculously dangling. Slowly, purposefully, almost lovingly, the goblin wrapped his injured hand around his captive's throat and began to squeeze. Kili managed one final gasp before his breath was completely cut off.

Strange, animal noises were coming from somewhere, and Kili dimly wondered what they could be. It was another moment before he recognized them as his own. Pin-pricks of light and shadow danced across his vision and the sounds receded.

Goliath went for his sword, pulling Kili after him like a child dragging a ragdoll. From the corner of his darkening vision, Kili saw that his brother had freed himself of his last enemy. The camp was clear. _Now run! _he tried to shout, but his throat refused the effort. _Run, you're free!_

Fili _did_ run, although not in the direction that his brother had wanted him to go. Kili heard his name echoing faintly in his ringing ears and watched as Fili started towards them. _You damned, brave fool, _he thought with regret and anger, as Goliath swung him around so that he could meet his new challenger.

From his new vantage point, Kili could see the high trees from where the arrow that was still stuck in his boot had come. A slinking movement in the middle branches drew his eye. It was the small, shifty goblin that Kili had noticed earlier but had foolishly forgotten in the midst of the melee. It was this goblin that had shot at him earlier, and it was aiming a second arrow straight for his unaware brother.

Kili roused from his oxygen deprived stupor as though a pail of icy water had been dashed over him. He tried to call out, but no sound escaped his constricted throat, not even a feeble croak. Fili was almost upon them, just to the left, and Kili shook his head vigorously.

The shifty goblin released.

With the last of his fading strength, Kili wrapped the colossal goblin who was slowly killing him into a stiff bear-hug and planted his feet firmly on the ground. He crouched, and, taking the giant with him, used his legs to propel them both forward in a desperate attempt to shield Fili from the arrow that was on course straight for his heart.

_Too high! _Kili thought as he fell. _It's too high, it will fly over my head. I'm so sorry, Fili._ Then the arrow struck home and darkness slammed into him, snatching the last torn remnants of his breath from his deflated lungs.

Fili was screaming. The world had slowed to an almost grinding halt, yet he could not reach his brother in time because he had slowed with it. Horrified, he saw Kili launch himself and the giant into the air a split second before he saw the arrow flying towards him and understood why. The arrow struck their spinning, airborne bodies before he could do anything more than register its existence and the fact that _he _had been the intended target.

His brother finished his oddly graceful, arcing fall and disappeared from view as the giant landed a second after, trapping him beneath its crushing weight.

"_NO_! _No_, Kili!" Fili scrambled to his brother's side and flung himself down beside the tangled pair. Kili wasn't moving. The giant was lying on top of his brother's body, also perfectly still, but oh, Aule,_ Kili wasn't moving! _His face was turned toward Fili's, pinned beneath Goliath's chest, but his eyes were closed and Fili could detect no breath of life.

His laughing, baby brother had just died before his eyes. Fili could think of no crueler fate than having to live with this final, agonizing image. When he thought back on Kili now, his cheeky grins and scheming face would never be the first thing that he saw; instead, he would be confronted over and over by that last, fully-aware farewell that had been in his eyes as he had knowingly sacrificed himself.

He begged him to wake up. It was useless, Kili was dead, and logically Fili knew that, but still, here he was, begging him to just_ open his damned eyes!_

"Kili, Kili, wake up! _Please, _just_ WAKE UP!_" he pleaded, tears streaming down his cheeks as he scrabbled desperately under the giant's heavy arm for Kili's hand.

He almost missed the reply.

"Get. This. Stinking. Orc. _OFF_ of me!" came an almost inaudible wheeze from under the giant. "Can't. _Breathe_!"

Fili's mind exploded into a riotous, whirling blank as Kili's brown eyes flickered open and glared. He shoved roughly at Goliath's corpse, laughing out thanks and blessings to every deity that presented itself to his overjoyed mind. The giant's weight shifted, and Fili noticed what he had failed to before in his sorrow; The arrow that had been meant for his heart had lodged itself in the back of the giant's head, and although it had shot clean through, it had been well over Kili's height. He had only been knocked senseless and breathless under the crushing weight of the dead goblin.

The body finally slid off Kili's torso and he sat up, coughing and gasping as air seeped painfully back into his starved lungs. Fili was staring at him with a soppy, besotted grin when Kili's eyes fly open in sudden alarm. Fili turned to follow his gaze while Kili whipped his bow from around his shoulders, and in one quick movement, sent a shot sailing smoothly into the trees. Something whizzed by very close to Fili's head and there was a thud like a sack of flour falling at the base of the tree where Nettor had been hiding, forgotten once again in Fili's extreme grief.

All was still. The thick, woodland silence was broken only by Kili's harsh, rasping breaths.

Fili looked blankly from the arrow that had so narrowly missed him to Nettor's crumpled form on the ground. He started to push himself up, to assure himself that the hateful creature could be no further threat to either of them, but Kili checked his movement, clutching wildly at his shoulder. Fili allowed himself to be pulled back and Kili buried his face in his brother's sleeve. He did not cry; It was only the physical reassurance that Fili was alive and well that he sought.

Fili slipped his arm around Kili's shoulders and tucked him against his chest, letting his warmth and his heartbeat say all of the words that he could not. So many emotions were contained in that vital beat, and he held them all in check to be strong for Kili, for the truth was, although he was relieved and grateful to be alive, he was absolutely beside himself that his brother had so foolishly risked his own precious life to come after him alone.

"Kili, it's fine, _you're_ fine," he murmured, choking back the words of anger that he wanted so badly to shout. "We're fine, you've done well." He smiled down to reassure him. Kili looked up, and Fili's swollen eye made it look as though he were giving him a grotesque wink. He laughed, and it came out sounding more than a little unhinged, even to his own ears.

"My god, Fili. I can't believe we've come out of this." An overload of adrenaline still flooded through him and he was shaking. He tried to bring his tone off as close to normal as possible and said, "We need to leave before the others come back. I don't know about you, but I'm about done in."

Fili agreed. Fifteen fresh goblins breaking into the clearing at this point would have been a most unwelcome sight. He pretended he hadn't noticed the tremor in his brother's rough voice and stood, offering him his hands. Together, they pulled until Kili's legs were freed from under the goblin's body and he could stand.

"Alright, inventory. What's broken or bleeding?" Fili asked, looking Kili's wobbling figure over with solicitous concern.

Amazingly, the closest that Kili had come to harm was the lone arrow, the point of which was still stuck in the heel of his boot. There was a lump on the back of his head from his fall, and a livid, mottled bruise was spreading across his cheekbone. Goliath's attempted throttling had left his throat feeling like pulverized meat, and swollen, finger-shaped, raised welts were developing in his flesh. There was also the gash that he had received across his palm while retrieving Fili's sword from the stream, but he felt that that could hardly be counted, as it was the result of his own clumsiness.

"I'm good," he rasped, eager to assuage his brother's evident worry, which was verging on something akin to panic. "Throat hurts, is all. You?"

Fili looked as though he had been hit full-on with a warhammer, and Kili tried not to let it show. His wrists were both ringed and bloody, the flesh shredded from fighting against his ropes, and his face was one giant bruise hidden behind a mask of crusted blood. Most of it seemed to have come from his pulverized lips and nose, although there was an alarming gash along his hairline as well. He was still nursing his ribs where the giant had kicked him, but it was his eye that worried Kili the most.

"Can- Can you see out of it?" he asked, raising his hand involuntarily toward it as if he could somehow help. Fili jerked his head away.

"I could before it closed the rest of the way. It was hazy, and it burns like hell, but I think it was mostly just from the blood that kept running into it. I think it'll be alright if you'll stop trying to poke it."

Kili dropped his hand. "Well, since we're both still relatively able bodied we should probably get the hell out of here. And, since we're going to have to walk all the way back to camp, I supposed you'll be wanting your boot back."

With a final hateful look back at the empty camp, Fili turned and followed his brother back to Brassy's packs in the woods. There was an unpleasant buzzing hum that he couldn't place as they neared the bags. Kili rummaged through one of them until he located the mud-encased boot. When he turned back, Fili was staring at the deer. At what was _left_ of the deer. Flies buzzed in and out of its open mouth and crawled over its glazed eyes. All of its former glory had been stripped away, and now it lay naked and forlorn among the leaf mold and detritus of the forest floor. Kili joined him and passed him the boot. "It was a shame, that."

"What happened to it? Did _you_ do this?" Fili wondered if he were having a delayed reaction to all of his knocks to the head. Shaking his head in confusion, he bent down to pick up one of the packs. It was heavy, and lifting it brought a hot flare of pain to his side. He turned away, but Kili had seen his grimace.

"It's a long story, and one best told while moving." The remaining fifteen goblins should have been back by now, and Kili was becoming anxious. He scooped up the last two bags and strapped them around his shoulders before Fili could get to them, but he stopped when he came to the saddle. He considered it briefly, then picked it up with a sigh. One more miracle was probably too much to ask, as indebted to luck and fate as he already was, but he clung to hope. _It's never wrong to have hope,_ he assured himself.

They leaned wearily together and headed home. It was only a camp with no warm beds, and no roof to keep off the rain, or walls to keep out the wind, but there were friends and family, and they were waiting for them. Waiting and _worrying_. At this moment, there was no place in the whole of the earth that they would rather be returning to.

* * *

**PS: Still a few more chapters. Of course we need to find out what's going on from Thorin's view. Look for some disgruntled grunting, self-abasement, and plenty of_ "me man, me no share feelings"_ nonsense.  
**


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: I like to respond to every review, but something tech-y went all haywire for a while, and now I've lost track of who got a response. So here's a great big _THANK_ _YOU_ to everyone who reviewed, faved and followed on the last chapter. You have no idea how spastically I check my alerts for the first hour or two after I upload a chapter. I'm not gonna play it cool and lie, I totally do that. ;) **

**And now, some manly feels and discussions of the aftermath.**

* * *

He had failed them.

Unhelpful as that was, it was the only clear thought that Thorin could muster at the moment.

They had pounded into the midst of the goblin camp not five minutes earlier, and Thorin, mounted on Surly's back, had not moved from the spot since the moment they had first burst through the trees. He wasn't sure that he could.

He was staring at a battleground. The goblin camp was an absolute shambles. Severed hands and lopped off heads were strewn about the clearing, black ichor sprayed everywhere. A charred corpse smoked and crackled nastily in the midst of a dying fire (This had brought on an agonizing burst of cold panic before Thorin recognized the blackened shape to be that of a goblin and not either Kili or Fili), and a one-eyed giant lay in the midst of it all, a goblin arrow stuck squarely in the back of its head. Bofur was standing over this last and kicking at the arrow thoughtfully. A goblin arrow burried in the back of a goblin's head. It seemed that they were met with more and more confusion at every turn; nothing they had seen from the moment they had decided to follow Kili's trail that afternoon had made a lick of sense. All Thorin knew for certain was that he had failed his lads when they had needed him the most. Their first true battle, and where had he been?

The problem was that he hadn't been enough for them. He hadn't been worried enough, hadn't reacted to their disappearance quickly enough, he hadn't driven the search hard enough, or taken the boys' truancy seriously enough, until it was all too late. His lads, his bright, flashing, laughing boys, had had to face _this-_ Thorin's eyes narrowed as they swept over the unimaginable carnage, reminding him with a brief shudder of a battlefield in his own distant past- his lads had faced _this_ alone. The thought was unbearable.

A torturous barrage of images had battered his mind as they had entered the clearing; Fili, tortured and screaming for the uncle that had never come; Kili, butchered and bleeding; beheaded, shot, hacked to pieces, flayed alive... Thorin wrenched his eyes shut as though the nightmarish images were being played out before him. He had envisioned a thousand different outcomes between here and the creek where they had realized the true extent of their trouble, but never in his wildest imaginings had _this_ been one of them.

He ran a shaking hand over his face and dismounted Surly to join Dwalin, Bofur and Bifur in their examination of the corpses. At first, he had been unable to make the effort, knowing that Kili and Fili were surely among those dead. But as the others searched, and no call of discovery was made, he began to hope once more. It was a spindly, weak hope, but the thread of that thin sliver of light kept the heavy weight of dark certainty at bay, and he guarded it jealously. They _were_ alive; their odds increased with every passing moment.

They canvassed the camp, gradually extending their search beyond its borders, and still no Fili or Kili was found. Thorin was peering with disgust at some sort of foul liquid at the roots of a tree when Bifur sent up a shout. His heart stopped beating, he was certain of it, and the world spun briefly before he took in the excited tone of Bifur's call. He clenched his fists, digging his nails in to his palms to stop the world from moving around him, and dashed toward the sounds of the others.

He burst upon them, panting, and with a torturous question in his eyes. His three companions were clustered tightly around something on the ground hidden from his view. A low, droning buzz was coming from whatever had captured their attention, and Thorin blinked away a sickening flash of the carrion birds and flies that had infested the battlefield of his nightmares so many years ago.

Dwalin turned to him with an uncharacteristically blazing grin and stepped back for Thorin to inspect their find for himself. "Well, we've found the rest of Brassy's costume! The lad made a damned poor job of it, but I guess under the circumstances he can be excused." he growled almost happily.

Thorin approached the buzzing carcass at their feet. The remainder of the deer. More confusion! It was all mind games, light and shadows, hope and doubt. He would go mad before this evening was finished, if he wasn't already.

Bofur glanced at his king with a worried look. This was not a side of Thorin that he had ever seen before. He seemed... lost. "Look," Bofur said gently, taking Thorin's arm and motioning to a disturbance among the leaves a short distance away. He clasped Thorin's shoulders firmly and, with a broad, relieved smile, stared earnestly into his king's face to deliver his good tidings. "They're walking away. Home. _Both_ of them!" He laughed and gestured again. "Go on, look! Two sets of prints! Fresh, less than an hour old, I'll wager, and walking free and clear! No limping, no dragging... Our lads are safe!"

Thorin almost stumbled over his wooden feet as Bofur shoved him forward. He peered down. Cautious. Disbelieving. Only to be confronted with a sight that he had hardly dared hope to see.

The tracks were there, very clear; He had been a poor excuse for a leader, always one maddening step behind them this entire time, never there at the crucial moment, and yet here he had been granted this miraculous reprieve; a wholly undeserved second chance to have his lads back and to keep them safe. The relief he felt at the sight of Fili and Kili's return trail among the leaves was excrutiating.

A torturous replay of every irritated sigh, scowl and harsh remark that he had ever made towards them hammered at him accusingly even as his heart soared. He had even _cursed_ them for the inconvenience that their delay in returning had caused him and the others when they had become obliged to start their search. What right did he have to this feeling of relief? He had done nothing to earn it.

"Thorin? My Lord?" Dwalin interrupted hesitantly. 'My Lord' was an unusual epithet for his second to use, and Thorin realized that he had not moved or spoken since he had joined them.

"What else can we do now but go after them?" he growled, mentally shaking himself out of his wallowing. After all, following was what they had been doing this entire day. Surely by now even Fili and Kili had exhausted the amount of available trouble that these woods had to offer.

The company heaved relieved sighs and gathered up the horses. Unnoticed by the others as they stowed their weapons and fashioned a lead for Brassy, Thorin crossed over to the slain giant. There was red blood spattered across the goblin's massive knuckles, and Thorin's face became stony. It was obviously not the black blood of a goblin. He bent down and tugged the eye-patch up over its head and slipped it into his pocket, then turned to join the others. With a rigid set to his shoulders, he mounted Surly and they entered the woods once more. _By the grace of Aule,_ he sighed, _let this be our last trip through these acursed trees._

* * *

"Where are Brassy and Pluck?"

The brothers had walked a long way in cautious silence before Fili dared ask the question.

Kili was grim. "Pluck is probably back at camp by now, but Brassy..." he shrugged helplessly and shook his head. Brassy had very likely met his end at the creek, Kili knew. Deer or no deer, those goblins had been hungry enough to eat a pony if they caught one.

"Kili?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you." Fili said sincerely. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't have come. For a while, I thought... Well, it doesn't matter."

Kili looked at him strangely. "You'd have done the same for me."

Maybe. Of _course_ he would have come for him, had it been Kili out there, but would he have charged into it alone? Or, being more pragmatic than his brother, would he have turned back for Thorin and the others? And would he have been too late if he had chosen the latter? He didn't know if Kili's decision had been right or wrong, only that it had ultimately worked. The myriad of possibilities and alternatives was staggering, and emphasized the fact that his brother had just pulled off the impossible.

"You can tell me, you know." said Kili, interrupting Fili's convoluted thoughts.

"Tell you what?"

"Whatever you were getting ready to say before you stopped. It's alright, you can tell me."

They were nearing the well-trodden game trail where they had strategically set out their traps in what seemed like another lifetime ago. The barest trace of evening light showed their way through the woods. Night was almost upon them. Fili scrubbed tiredly at his face, wincing at the sting that came from his torn wrist as he flexed it. "It's nothing, I just- I'm afraid that I might have given you up to them. The location of the camp and the others... Not immediately, mind, but once they decided to do more than just bat me around a bit. I don't know what I might have said or done." He hung his head in shame.

"You can't possibly think that, Fili, I know you! You are so much stronger than you know. You would never have given any of us away." Kili had no doubt in his mind that, although this ugly lesson in reality might have shaken his brother's belief in himself, if it had come down to that crucial moment, Fili wouldn't have wavered for a second. His faith in his older brother was absolute, and Kili's face tightened at the thought of what might have come to pass had he been longer in coming for him.

"I like to think that you're right," Fili said, a small smile creeping over his swollen lips.

"Of course I am. I've been right about everything else so far today, haven't I?"

"Oh, yes, your master plan to fight off a camp of starving, irritable goblins was top notch."

"To be fair, I intended to sneak you down the back way after I cut you free and killed the guard, but then that giant bastard came up the hill and set things rolling."

"Hm. Yes, a covert escape would have been preferable. Alright, now whatever happened with that damned deer? I have to say, we've been through an awful lot of bother and I can't see that we have anything to show for it."

Kili explained sorrowfully what had become of the deer. "So you see," he finished, cheering, "We _do_ have something to show for it. You!" He grinned. "Although, you're right, that's really not all that much. I'd rather have had the meat."

He received a gentle shove for his last remark and almost toppled over under the weight of all the bags and the saddle that he carried. When he regained his balance, he asked, "How did you kill the two at the creek? One was obviously missing a very important appendage, but what about the other one?"

Fili switched his own bag to his other shoulder, grimacing as he did. "Broke his nose with my head. Must've hit him just right, he dropped like a stone."

"Nice one."

They walked a bit further, Kili anxiously scanning the woods and listening for sounds of pursuit. Goblins weren't known for their subtlety and, after a moment's silence, he was satisfied.

"D'you feel any different?" Fili suddenly asked.

"I'm more than a little sore, if that's what you mean." Kili replied, and followed up with a colorful chain of swears as he tripped on a rock and the saddle flew from his startled hands.

Stooping to pick up the saddle, Fili shook his head and clarified. "No, I mean after- After killing something. Something, well... Would you consider a goblin sentient?"

Kili considered, carefully feeling himself out for an honest answer. "Yes," he said slowly. "I feel different. But it's not like how I thought I would feel."

"How's that?"

"I thought I would feel... I don't know, I guess I thought that I would feel happier. And I'm _glad_ that they're dead, each and every one of the murderous bastards, don't get me wrong, it's just... It's a sort of hollow happiness." He sighed. "I'm not making any sense. Blame it on the tumble I took off that ledge."

"That," Fili said, with a shudder, "Scared the life out of me. I thought the goblins at the bottom had you for sure. I couldn't hardly hold my sword at first, and I just knew that I wouldn't get to you in time." He was not at all embarrassed when he had to blink away a bit of wetness that welled up in his eyes.

"But you did." said Kili softly, hitching aside a bag and slipping an arm around his brother's shoulders to give him a heartening shake. "You were there when it mattered, just like you always are. I don't know how you do it sometimes, honestly. You're like a- a guardian Jack-in-the-Box, who pops up whenever I need him!" He laughed, and the oddly apt comparison brought a smile to Fili's face as well.

Fili sobered abruptly. "You're going to need more than one guardian if you plan on going around doing such stupid things for very much longer. What were you _thinking_ coming after me alone? And going into that camp was pure suicide!" His face was serious and he frowned almost angrily at his brother, who pulled back, bewildered by his sudden attack. "You should have gone for Thorin, at least you would have been safe then."

"But you might not have been." His tone was puzzled and hurt, and Fili could tell that the idea of turning back for help had been dismissed from his mind early on. "And under the circumstances, I turned out safe enough! You want to know what I was thinking? I was thinking that you would most likely be _dead_ by the time I returned with help! And if that happened, the whole world would have come crashing down on me as punishment for my cowardice. I thought-"

"No, you _didn't_ think," Fili broke in angrily. "You never do, and this time it almost got you killed!"

Kili lifted his head defiantly and backed away. A host of things unsaid filled the gulf between them. "That's not true! Well, alright, I did almost get killed, but you can't say that I didn't think things through! You and Thorin seem to think that I'm stupid, but every plan that I had tonight worked. If it hadn't been for me, you'd still be there, or worse!" His voice cracked on his final word, and he coughed, massaging his painful throat with his bleeding hand.

Fili was shocked. Never had he thought of his brother as stupid. Kili's devious mind and inventive pranks often left him secretly filled with admiration. Perhaps too secretly, it seemed.

"Kili, stop." Kili's hands had been flying during his impassioned speech, and Fili stepped forward and gently pinned his arms to his sides. Frustrated tears threatened in Kili's eyes. "You can't really think that." Fili said. "Thorin and I have never thought that you were stupid, not once! It's just, well... You're hard to predict sometimes, is all."

Kili snorted and freed his arms with a shake. "'Hard to predict,'... That's just putting 'hare-brained idiot' into a pretty package and tying a bow around it."

They glared in a stubborn stalemate until Fili did an odd thing.

He dropped to his knees.

"Do you want me to sing your praises? Because I will, for all the forest to hear." He lifted his voice in a mocking salute. "Thank you, oh exalted Kili, for coming to my rescue and vanquishing the vast horde of my dastardly captors."

"Stop it." Kili was furious.

Stopping was not on Fili's agenda. "Where would I be without your massive intellect and strategic planning?" His voice swelled, wavering slightly as he strained his goblin-bruised vocal cords.

"Cut it out!" Kili hissed.

"No, no, you must be given your due, my Lord! Your extreme savviness must be shouted to the very tops of the trees, for only a mind of unimaginable magnitude could ever think to tie a deer to a pony!"

Kili was laughing now in spite of himself. "An unimaginable ass is what you are, now shut up before you bring the rest of those goblins down on us. I should have left your worthless hide tied to that tree like a mangy dog that no one wanted to let inside."

Grinning, Fili pushed himself up from the ground. "That's what I've been trying to tell you!"

With their disagreement magically resolved, they turned their minds to more pressing matters.

"Alright, genius, what are we going to do about supper?"

Kili blew a strand of hair from his face thoughtfully. "It's almost fully dark, they've probably starved to death by now. But I guess it wont do to return empty handed after all this time. I saw some watercress by the creek?" he ventured. "We could forage for some along the way, and a few cattails besides."

At the mention of non-meat related food stuffs, Fili wrinkled his nose, immediately regretting the action when his lumps and bruises reasserted their burning presence.

"Ugh, roughage. We'll check a few traps close by, but I'm sure they're all empty by now."

Kili was grim, most likely picturing their fellows' reaction to their meager harvest. "Onward, then. Let's get this over with."

Echoing Kili's thoughts, Fili said. "After all of this, Thorin is still going to flay us alive. Then the rest of them are going to slaughter us for not feeding them on time, and _Bombur_..." He shook his head sadly. Poor Bombur. Fili could picture the look of crushed disappointment that must have settled on the rotund dwarf's many-chinned face once he finally accepted that the brothers weren't going to be returning any time soon with fresh game for his stew pot.

Kili sighed guiltily. "I know, I know..." He brightened suddenly, and Fili rolled his eyes at this fickle display. "But better to take our lickings with the lot of them than be stuck through with a filthy goblin blade, eh?"

_Aule help us both_, thought Fili. As far as he was concerned, there could be nothing worse than wandering home shamefaced, beaten, and empty handed and having to recount the entire evening's embarrassing events to their furious uncle. "I'm not sure that you've got your priorities entirely straight," he said.

"Pssh," Kili chided. "There's no help for it now, may as well look on the bright side. Still alive and kicking, aren't we?" He jabbed Fili lightly in the ribs for emphasis and his face fell as Fili sucked in a sharp breath. "Sorry," he whispered, instantly contrite.

"No, you're right. We should be thankful. We must be the luckiest dwarves in the whole company."

Kili's smile returned.

"Untouchable," he agreed merrily, glad to see his brother's mood lighten. "As long as we're together."

By the time that they returned to camp and were welcomed stumbling wearily and grinning into the warm embraces of their frantic friends, the pair had gathered a heaping amount of edible, but largely unappealing, vegetation. Elf-fodder, as Fili put it. Bombur did not appear half so formidable as they had supposed he would be, although his quiet acceptance of the results of their foraging may have been influenced heavily by the brothers' alarming appearance.

"Where is Thorin?" Kili asked apprehensively as he knelt to help Bombur rinse the mud and silt from the plants. Oin was tending to Fili's swollen eye in the light of the fire, smearing some sort of ointment across its lid. Kili frowned at the tight set of his brother's clenched jaw.

"Out lookin' fer you lads still, I expect." came the answer, accompanied by a pitying look.

"Should we go out after him?" Kili asked, guiltily fiddling with the strap of his quiver, which he had not yet taken off. It was odd, but he felt like he couldn't relax without it on; Its presence was reassuring.

"No!" Bombur exclaimed, horrified at the thought of having to explain to Thorin that the lads had come and left, should they miss each other in the woods once more. "No, the pair of you stay right where ye are!"

Kili opened his mouth to protest, but stopped as five dark shapes separated themselves from the trees. "Nevermind," he whispered.

Thorin had arrived.

* * *

**PS: One more chapter! Kinda makes me sad. BUT, because I am apparently *insane* with the Hobbit-ness, I have started a fourth freaking story. It's more of an anthology of the boys Greatest Hits of Mischief, really, so humorous one-shots will abound. I tell you this not only to hock my wares, but also to explain why my updates have been taking forever. Sorry! All of my Hobbit stories fit in relatively canon, or preceding canon, and I'm keeping them within a timeline of the same version of the brothers so we can see them at varying ages.**

**Alright, I'm done badgering you to read my stuff!**


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Now, I know I said only one more chapter, but this was verging on gargantuan, and I decided it would be more effective to split the feels so that everyone got a chance to have their own stand-alone scene. The next one may be shorter, but at least you're getting another chapter out of this, right? :)**

**Now for some man-feels, hobbit-feels, and even some pony-feels.**

* * *

Thorin stared wordlessly at the scene before him. There sat Kili, sheepishly dividing a heaping pile of greenery between fourteen small wooden bowls. Behind him, attended by Oin, was Fili, black and blue and squinting at him through a painfully swollen eye, yet to Thorin's great relief he displayed a tentative smile. Kili, however, looked stricken at his uncle's appearance, and quickly trained his eyes on his boots. Thorin knew a guilty conscience when he saw one, which was far too often in his youngest nephew. Again he found himself wondering what exactly had transpired at the goblin camp. It was impossible for him to fill in the gaps in his knowledge of the evening's events where Kili was concerned. The inventive twists of his youngest nephew's mind had left Thorin unbalanced and reeling from the moment he had been born, and he had never been so thankful for it as at this moment. Still, it was likely that Kili's impulsiveness and curiosity had instigated the trouble to begin with, and lessons had to be learned, for Kili's own sake.

"Enjoying a nice salad?" Thorin inquired dryly as he dismounted, carefully allowing no trace of the spasm of relief that tore through him to enter his voice. He hid a shaking hand inside the pocket of his coat and clutched at the eye-patch he had hidden there. A grim reminder or a trophy, he had not yet decided.

The brothers looked miserable at his tone and fully expected to be treated to a verbal thrashing the likes of which Middle Earth had never before witnessed. Kili stood, nobly intending to take the full brunt of his uncle's attack.

"It's not what it looks," he began, hands outstretched, palms facing outward as if desperately warding off some deranged, approaching demon. As he stared wide-eyed at Thorin, he suddenly noticed that there was one pony extra.

"Brassy!" he cried out, and flung himself at the little pony's neck. Thorin stepped aside with a chilly air as Kili laughed and cried without reservation. "Brassy, I thought I'd never see you again! Oh, well done! Well done!" He planted an unabashed kiss on the soft, familiar muzzle and Brassy butted him with an affectionate nicker.

Bilbo had been sitting with Fili, assisting Oin in applying salve to the lad's various cuts and scrapes. Pausing with his hand above Fili's temple, he watched the display between uncle and nephew with his mouth agog. These were family dynamics like none he had ever seen before, and he was a bit stunned. Why, it was all he had been able to do not to scoop the boys into his _own_ arms when they had returned, and he had known them hardly any time at all. Most of the other dwarves had taken a turn at welcoming the brothers back with a relieved embrace or at least a pat on the back, and yet this was the greeting they were to receive from their own uncle? Bilbo shook his head wonderingly and his kind eyes followed Kili with pity.

Thorin speared his youngest nephew with a withering glare and the joy-suffused smile was snuffed from Kili's face. "It's not what it looks?" Thorin repeated. "You didn't take on an entire camp full of virulent, loathsome goblins on some hare-brained whim, intent on bringing yourselves honor and glory? Do you have _any_ _idea_- " He broke off and turned away to reassert some control, as his voice had been steadily climbing in volume towards the end of this short-lived tirade.

The livid purpling of Kili's bruises appeared that much more alarming as the blood drained from his face, but he held his ground. "No! That is, yes, but not like you've made it sound! It was an accident- And it wasn't a whole camp full, I- I sent some of them off!" he sputtered, unsure of how to even begin explaining the garbled chain of events that had somehow led to a deer hide being strapped to a pony and a giant bowl of salad. His aching throat probably wouldn't allow him to get out the entire tale anyway. The acute burn that was now his windpipe had tripled its severity after his exuberant reunion with Brassy. Desperately, he looked to Fili for help, mouth working uselessly like a fish stranded on shore.

Fili came to stand beside his brother, wincing as he rose. Bilbo thought he detected a brief softening of Thorin's countenance as Fili's hand went to his ribs, but the moment passed, and the Dwarf king was glaring once more. The look was so fleeting that the hobbit couldn't be sure it had even been there at all. Perhaps he had only wanted it to be.

"It truly was an accident, Uncle. It all started with a deer," Fili began, taking up the tale from where his brother had floundered. Beside him, Kili nodded eagerly, and Fili looked around, suddenly aware that the entire company had gathered together and were listening with rapt expressions. They had politely refrained from asking too many questions when the wayward pair had stumbled back into camp, instead waiting patiently to be told when the brothers were ready. Fili was suddenly reminded of himself as a young Dwarfling, when he would sneak hand in hand with a much younger Kili into the great hall and listen with bated breath, clutching the edge of his seat with sweaty palms, while the elders told tale after tale of daring adventures and legends. He smiled, warming up to his new role as storyteller.

He began again.

"It all started with a deer. Not some paltry little hind, mind you, but a great, majestic stag..." He went on for what seemed hours, until the formidable Dwarves (and one small Hobbit and one towering wizard) were one by one spellbound by every twist and turn that he recounted. Never leaving his side, Kili acted out some of the more dramatic parts, clearly getting into the spirit of things and adding a lively flare that was all his own. Together, they had their homely little band of fellows gasping with suspense as Fili fought Goliath at the Battle of the Creek and roaring with laughter at the dimwitted goblins tearing after Kili's clever deer-lashed-to-a-pony ruse. By the time they were finished, Kili having dramatically mimed the shooting of the treacherous Nettor in his tree as he made his final attempt on Fili's life, not a sound could be heard, and more than one tear was shed at this evidence of the stalwart brothers' unwavering loyalty to one another. At this last, Thorin's gaze became glued to the goblin arrowhead that Kili had neglected to pry completely from the heel of his boot. Had anyone been watching, they might have seen the breath that hitched in his throat momentarily before he managed to take another.

When silence finally fell, Bofur sniffled a little and smiled. "'Twas a good tale, laddies. Well worth a grumblin' stomach, I might add."

Behind him, Bombur raised his ladle in salute. "Not grumblin' fer too much longer, I hope. Thorin did manage to bring in that one rabbit." With a flourish, he stepped aside and revealed his stew pot, filled to the brim and bubbling away with a mouthwatering brew of vegetable and rabbit stew.

"Bombur!" the company cried as one, delighted. Bombur hemmed and hawed modestly as he was clapped on the back and mobbed by a crowd of his bowl-wielding fellows. The brothers smiled as they spied the edible roots and vegetation that they had collected mixed in with the tender floating chunks of rabbit. Grinning hopefully, they approached, eyes innocently inquiring if all had been forgiven.

Bombur chuckled. It was difficult to hold a grudge against the two young scamps. "Tuck in lads," he rumbled heartily. "Ye've earned it."

"Yes," Balin agreed, coming forward and holding his empty bowl out for a helping. "Not for your sad contribution to this glorious feast, mind, but for the tale."

"That's good enough for me," Kili said, his smile widening. "We'll take it." Forgiveness was an almost daily occurrence for Kili, but even he had been afraid of remaining in the company's stony bad graces for their latest transgression. It never paid well to mess with the supper of starving Dwarves.

One dwarf among them had not yet offered his forgiveness. Thorin had allowed himself to be forgotten, fading into the background, and Bilbo studied him from a distance with a curious eye. The Dwarf lord said nothing, only watched from his self-exiled post at the outskirts of the camp with a closed expression as his nephews were clapped soundly on the shoulders and steaming bowls of stew were thrust into their eager hands. Much talking and laughter carried the others into the night as the party made merry, their hunger and troubles forgotten in the wake of good food, good company, and a cracking good tale.

Bilbo took his turn in line for the pot and approached his stoic friend with a tentative offering of stew. Grunting his thanks, Thorin gestured to a stump, indicating that Bilbo take a seat. Bilbo did, and watched, charmed, as Kili broke out a small fiddle from one of his saddlebags and began gamboling about, spontaneously leading the others in a rollicking jig around the blazing fire.

Thorin was watching as well, with a considering expression. "He sings, as well, though I don't suppose we'll be hearing much of that tonight. Just look at the fool's throat..." He blinked hard, and an awkward silence descended, punctuated only by the occasional sipping of soup and the sound of merriment in the background.

"All's well that ends well?" Bilbo ventured. He could not understand why Thorin was not ecstatic at their safe return.

Thorin snorted at this bit of empty philosophy and eyed Bilbo with ill-tempered restraint. "They spin a good yarn," he acknowledged, nodding toward the oblivious pair at the center of attention. "But I don't think that they did justice to just how close we came to losing them both."

Bilbo swallowed and followed Thorin's gaze. They were both so young, Bilbo was reminded, as they paraded with the others with the amazing resiliency of youth. If not for their antics, he would often forget that fact. "Was it as bad as they said? Only, they have a wee tendency to, erm... embellish." he finished baldly. Not that they could have made up Fili's nearly closed eye, or the ugly raised welts that stood out and ringed Kili's throat so brutally, but thirty goblins seemed a bit of a stretch, and as far as Bilbo could tell Dwarves had an almost biological need to gild a simple tale until it approached the point of legend. As the possessor of a small and rather uneventful life, it had perhaps never occurred to the Hobbit that most of the stories he had heard from his companions were almost entirely factual in nature.

Thorin nodded slowly. "If they've changed any details at all, then they've downgraded the severity for our sake. We tracked them from start to finish. Fili was ambushed and caught at the creek, no doubt. Kili doesn't know it, but the fifteen he sent off with Brassy met their end between Dwalin, Bifur, Bofur and I, and we tracked them back from there. Fifteen dead in the goblin camp when we arrived, and no sign of either of Fili or Kili, except some ropes and blood scattered at the base of a tree on a hill. They made it back here before we could reach them. We were a step behind them the entire time. They have always drawn trouble as easily as they draw breath, but this? This was altogether different." He sighed, his fist clenching in his pocket, kneading and digging at the patch. "My god, Bilbo, what could have been..."

Kili had paused, alone by the fire, and was looking at Thorin with a mixture of longing and trepidation. Bilbo shook his head. "If you knew all that, why were you angry with them? It doesn't sound at all as if Kili was chasing glory. It _sounds_ like he was quite the reluctant hero, and not at all as hare-brained as, well, as he admittedly can be at times." It was true that Kili was often silly and flippant in his innocent, unguarded way, but he was much cleverer than he was typically given credit for being. Bilbo knew this well enough, having seen that hidden side of him once before during their fateful game at Bag End. **

Thorin's face hardened. "Mr. Baggins, you will give me leave to govern my nephews as I see fit. What has kept them alive, and what will _continue_ to keep them alive throughout this journey, is the fact that I hold them accountable for their mistakes. When they make an error in judgement, I will ensure that they take a lesson from it. That is all they have need of. It does not do to encourage them with a pat on the back for sheer stupidity or foolhardiness."

Bilbo was aghast at this show of coldness. "Is it really necessary to keep throwing their mistakes up in their faces like that? You can see how it wounds them." Kili had abandoned his post by the fire and was sitting on his sleeping roll, cross-legged and dejectedly plucking the strings of his fiddle as he ate his stew. The carousing Dwarves had mostly settled down to their own stations as well, and more than a few snores could be heard.

"If they are to make it through this quest to the end, then mistakes are what I must use to teach them. I know you mean well, and believe me, that is the only reason you are still standing, but it is more important that they _live_ than that they love their old uncle."

"They do, you know." Thorin dared the Hobbit to continue with a stony stare, but Bilbo would not be deterred. "Love you, that is. They follow every move you make. Aside from each other, you're the first thing they look to when they rise, and the last thing their eyes seek out before their heads touch their pillows. Surely it wouldn't hurt their odds of survival to show them a modicum of affection," he pleaded obstinately.

Outwardly unmoved, Thorin rose from his seat upon the stump. Hiding the inner turmoil that the Hobbit's truthful words had caused with the ease of long practice, he left him in silence. Bilbo watched with unreasonable optimism as the Dwarf approached his dark young nephew, who had naturally been joined by his yawning brother. Kili was leaning against the solid support of Fili's shoulder, head back in the attitude of someone very tired after a hard day's work. The chunk of rabbit in his mouth went suddenly tasteless at the sound of his uncle's approach. His brows raised as hope crept into his face.

"Fili, Kili, you were in line for first watch tonight. Fili, in light of present circumstances, I think it best if Oin takes your place. Get some rest." Thorin was gruff, all business.

Kili's face clouded. "But... we always watch together."

"A practice that I am coming to regret. It's high time the pair of you learn that there are more people in the world than yourselves."

"But-" Kili began again. His hurt eyes were almost wild at the thought of leaving Fili, even if it were only at the center of a well-guarded Dwarf camp. The terror of their earlier separation was still too raw.

"Are you injured?" Thorin questioned. His tone was gruff, but there was true concern as well.

"Well, no, not really, but-"

"Then is it unreasonable for me to expect you to perform your duties? If you are unable, say the word, I will arrange another alternative."

"No! I am not shirking my responsibilities, Uncle, only Fili-"

"Uncle, I will watch with him," Fili interjected, glancing uneasily between the two combatants. "I am well enough."

Thorin stood firm. "No, Fili. You will stay, and he will go. My decision is final."

Kili nodded, blinking rapidly as the firelight caught a watery glint in the crease of his eye. He shot up, still wearing his bow and quiver, and almost ran for the short rise he had chosen earlier that afternoon as the most likely place to stand lookout. Fili watched him go, too exhausted to argue further. As much as he hated to admit, Thorin was right. He would be useless on watch. He only wished that Kili had been replaced as well, although he knew that it would be selfish to push the responsibility off onto another. They all had to shoulder their own weight on this journey.

Thorin could feel Bilbo's disapproving eyes boring into him as Kili left. Ignoring his silent accuser, he hunkered down at Fili's side and openly studied the mess that was his heir's face. Fili felt awkward under the scrutiny. "Answer me truly, Fili. Don't pretend, or tell me what you think I want to hear. Are you hurt?" Thorin's eyes dropped to the ribs Fili had been nursing throughout the evening.

Fili shook his head. "Nothing that won't mend on its own with a bit of time."

Nodding thoughtfully, Thorin turned to the fire and stretched out his hands, warming them. So much of him was cold this night, it seemed.

"I'd be dead by now without him, you know." Fili's voice was admonishing.

Thorin froze. His disgraceful failure was the elephant in the room, and now it had been acknowledged. He nodded, his throat constricting. "Yes. It's very likely." He turned to Fili, who had only meant to give an indirect criticism of his uncle's treatment of Kili and was now digging a comb from a bag, intent on avoiding eye contact. Thorin continued, and Fili abandoned his search in surprise at the quaver in his uncle's usually firm voice. "I could not have saved you. You deserved far better that what I gave you this night. It was your brother who bested us all. I am sorry that I failed you both. It should never have come down to Kili having to rescue you alone."

Fili looked up dazedly as he realized what his uncle was saying. "That's not at all what I meant! Uncle, you couldn't help what happened, none of us could! And it was Kili's fault least of all. That's all I meant to say."

"Perhaps I am too used to laying the blame for your tangles and scrapes at Kili's feet, but that does not mean that I am afraid to shoulder the portion that is of my own making. It was my shortcomings that led to him having to make such a dangerous attempt, and it should not have come to that. The fault was truly mine." Thorin repeated rigidly. He stared brooding into the spitting flames before finally bringing his eyes up to meet Fili's, and the shame that they held was palpable. Thorin's belief in his own guilt was unshakable, Fili could see. Sometimes, the only way to assuage a guilty conscience was through reparation. Fili knew this from his own colorful history of misdeeds, and he jumped to offer his uncle a clear path to escape the pain of his regrets.

"Then tell _him_ that. There is nothing for you to make up to me, but if you insist on feeling that there is, then you should tell him how... how _amazingly_ well he has done." Fili smiled. "I won't let it go to his head, if that's what you're afraid of. Between the two of us, we'll keep him safely in his place."

Thorin glanced at him askance. Fili understood his reasoning more thoroughly than he had thought. All of his old tricks, effective when dealing with headstrong young boys, were of no use against these newly formed men. "When did the pair of you become so wise?" he sighed, feeling the weight of the years piling on.

Fili laughed. "I, for one, always have been. Kili? I have no idea. But I think perhaps he has been as well, and it's only now that he's chosen to reveal his powers."

Thorin chuckled, his mood lightening minutely after revealing his burden. "It was a well timed revelation. Of course it's been there all along. Perhaps I have chosen too many times to overlook his cleverness, since it was so often wielded as a weapon against me in some heinous plot or other. I've been wrong to think that he needed no encouragement in that avenue, but then he always seemed so sure of himself, always diving in to everything as if he were invincible."

Fili smiled. "I think his actions have always been more well thought-out gambles than we've been led to believe." His smile faltered, thinking back on his discussion with Kili in the woods on their return. "Did you know, that all of these years he's been under the impression that we think him stupid? His own words, if you can believe it! Kili, merry prankster and scheming mastermind, the most devious of us all! I would have laughed, if he hadn't been so damned serious."

Frowning, Thorin stirred the dying fire with a charred stick. "That is also my doing. I had always assumed it was obvious that the only one who was ever at their wit's end was myself. I've never been able to keep up with him, as tonight has made perfectly clear." He snorted at the irony with no little self-disgust. Let no one ever say that when Thorin Oakenshield failed, he did not do so in a manner that was both spectacular and thorough. "It's time that I made this right. Fili, your counsel will prove invaluable over the coming years, I can already see. I will trust you to keep me from repeating my many mistakes."

Fili was humbled. To be valued as a peer was the highest honor that he could ever long to receive from his esteemed uncle. "Kili and I will always be at your side, or have your back, wherever you find you have need of us. I can easily speak for him when I promise you that." The plentiful bodily aches and pains that plagued him faded in light of new emotions; Elation, and a deep, glowing pride.

Thorin stood with a sharp report of crackling joints. His hand hovered over Fili's head in a forgotten, age-old gesture, about to ruffle his hair. The brief hesitation redirected him to clasp his grown nephew firmly on the shoulder, the fond acknowledgment of an equal. "Sleep now. I will see your brother."

Fili nodded and settled down, sure that in his current state of exhaustion he would be asleep within seconds. The seconds ticked by and still no sleep came, and as Fili watched his uncle fade into the darkness, he realized that he was alone. His fellows snorted and wheezed and rumbled around him, but the feeling of empty solitude remained. It wasn't that he and Kili had never been parted before; Aule knew there were plenty of times in their youth that they couldn't stand the sight of one another during some tiff or petty disagreement, but on this journey they had been as one. The one time that they _had_ divided, nothing good had come of it. Fili scooted his blankets closer to the fire and shivered. The flames died and the embers dimmed, and Fili anxiously waited for the rise of the second watch that would allow Kili to return to his side.

* * *

******** See my one-shot "A Master Wordsmith" for the reference. A Bilbo vs. Kili short story.**

**Thorin and Kili will get their own chapter, then, The End. :(**

**Reviews please?**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Last chapter.**

* * *

Kili was alone. What was worse, he was lonely. And he ached in more places than he had ever thought possible. There was a nip to the night air that was doing its best to add to his misery and he cupped his hands, huffing into them. Warm fog bloomed between his frigid palms, but once the heat had dissipated the moisture from his breath left them colder than before. All in all, he was feeling rather melancholy.

He watched wistfully over the slumbering forms in the camp below. Thorin had left Fili, telling him to rest, and was on his way over to the Hobbit, who was the last of the company remaining upright and conscious. Kili would have thought the little fellow would be among the first to dash for the meager comfort of his bedroll, but there he sat, stalwart and full of perseverance, and obviously expecting Thorin to join him. Kili had to chuckle at Bilbo's fortitude in dealing with his uncle and wondered what sort of advice he might be doling out. That Thorin tolerated his counsel at all raised Bilbo immeasurably in Kili's esteem.

Kili's eyes naturally drifted back to his brother. He frowned as Fili tossed fitfully by the fire. He must be completely worn out, Kili thought. Why wasn't he asleep yet? Looking up at the stars, Kili judged his remaining time as sentry to be at least another two hours. Exhaustion, along with the thought that somewhere out there were fifteen unaccounted for goblins, made him edgy, and he began to pace the ridge as the minutes scraped by. Bilbo's odd little pocket watch on its dainty chain came to mind, and he was glad he had no such instrument. He would have been checking it incessantly, hoping for a miraculous jump in time to release him from his duty so that he could check on Fili. Frustration mingled with worry halted his feet. Bilbo and his uncle were together talking, and all that Kili could do was watch.

Alone.

* * *

Bilbo was awake and waiting as Thorin left Fili and the younger Dwarf dropped down on his sleeping roll like a weary stone. Oin and the others were fast asleep. Thorin passed them by. He would not wake Oin for the watch, he decided. Let him rest. He paused by the Hobbit on his way to the little hill where Kili skulked in solitude and Bilbo looked at him expectantly.

Thorin took the opening. "Bilbo, I did not mean half of what I said earlier. What I have come to realize, is that I've never stopped seeing them as my boys. Not until this very moment, not even Fili. I think the whole company is as guilty as I am. But they're not our lads anymore, either of them. They're their own men, and they have been for longer than I've allowed myself to admit. Make no mistake, they're still young, and they do... silly, _asinine_ things, but they've shown themselves to be more capable than I had dared hope. Kili in particular has caught me by surprise this night. That I have acted poorly in my misjudgment of him has been justly thrust under my nose."

Bilbo placed his small hand on Thorin's sleeve. "Then I hope that you'll tell him so. Whatever you said to Fili has already helped to put this dreadful day behind him. I hope you'll do the same for Kili. I can see how raising such a spirited young man could be..." Bilbo wracked his vocabulary for an inoffensive substitute for 'maddening beyond all measure.' "Trying," he settled on finally. "But is it so wrong that he occasionally livens us dull fellows with his troublesome antics?"

Thorin threw his head back and barked out an actual, honest to goodness, laugh. "No!" he boomed. He tone was speculative, as if he were only just discovering the fact. "No, there's not a thing in the world wrong with his liveiness, and not a thing in the world that I would change about him. I only pray that he never loses that spark, but life has a way of dimming such things, and that I fear for him."

"He'll be more likely to keep it if he knows it's appreciated. I've seen him try to quash many a wild impulse."

"With a sidelong glance at his implacable uncle, I'm sure." Thorin sighed heavily.

Bilbo fiddled with a corner of his pocket kerchief. "May I ask you something?" he said, looking up.

Thorin snorted. "You have had the run of every conversation so far this evening, why would you stop now?"

Bilbo took this to be as close to acquiescence as he was likely to get and continued, "Why did you divide them? For the watch? Kili might not have been gravely injured, but he could have used the rest as much as his brother. It seems... harsh."

Cruel, Bilbo had wanted to say. He expected cold fury or an instant dismissal for his temerity, but Thorin surprised him. "I don't regret the decision, although I understand how it looks to you. I'm sure you've noticed that the pair of them are almost worryingly close. What happened today has left them understandably shaken, but I can't let that leave them afraid to be separated. I could see the panic rise in Kili's eyes when I pulled him for the watch."

"Like they've been thrown from a pony," Bilbo mused. "You're forcing them to get back on the horse, so to speak. Is that what battle does to you? Leaves you afraid?" he asked timidly. It was not a question that he had ever expected to need an answer to. He certainly hoped that he would never come to find out for himself.

"Only a fool would be left without a healthy fear for their own mortality. The thing that Fili and Kili fear for the most, however, is for each other."

"I find that touching and noble," Bilbo frowned. "But you say it as though it's a bad thing."

Thorin sighed patiently. "No, Bilbo. I do not think that it is necessarily a bad thing. But you must understand, they need to learn to fear for _themselves_. Separated, they become distracted and reckless because of their worry for he other, and distraction can be a very dangerous thing. I would not have their love and loyalty be the cause of their deaths."

Bilbo pictured Fili and Kili as they had been, dancing and laughing around the fire. The comforting image changed to one of a churning battlefield, the brothers separated, arms outstretched and reaching for the other, each too preoccupied to defend themselves against the death blows coming from all sides. Bilbo shuddered. If this was the image that haunted Thorin, it was no wonder he so often acted as he did. "No," said the Hobbit quietly, "I don't suppose that you would. I cannot find fault in you for that."

Thorin nodded. He felt oddly pleased to be understood. "I do not do such things lightly or without good reason, Bilbo."

Bilbo patted Thorin's hand, but could not resist poking the bear. "If there are always such good reasons, why do you never bother to explain them? Do you have any idea what a willful old curmudgeon it makes you appear?"

Thorin bristled with stately dignity. "I do not explain my every action because it is unnecessary for a _King_ to do so, and, it is a waste of my time. Take tonight, for instance. Had I not just frittered away a pointless hour with you, I might have been asleep by now. Goodnight, Master Hobbit. I suggest that you use your own time wisely and bed down. I am impatient to leave these cursed woods behind us, and we will rise early." If the willful old curmudgeon was a bit tetchy, he could be excused. It wasn't every day that a King had his curmudgeony-ness pointed out to him. It will do him good, thought Bilbo with a sleepy smile.

Unfazed, Bilbo hopped down from his perch on the stump and stretched. "Goodnight, Master Dwarf. There has been more than enough fence-mending for this small Hobbit tonight. Tell Kili I am glad he and his brother have returned safe. They were too surrounded by well-wishers earlier for me to get a word in edgewise."

Thorin responded with his typical grunt, be it one of acknowledgment, dismissal or phlegm. Bilbo was amused to see him looking uncharacteristically apprehensive as he glanced Kili's way. "Good luck," he murmured under his breath as Thorin turned and started up the hill to where Kili prowled. The poor Dwarf would need it.

* * *

Still alone, still worried, and still pacing, Kili thought this night would never end.

A throat cleared in the darkness. "Well done," said an unfamiliar voice close behind him.

Kili whirled, hand shooting to his hip for the hilt of his sword. He halted and flushed crimson at the sight of Thorin standing less than a yard away. Some watchman he had turned out to be. The 'well done' had obviously been meant as an ironical criticism of his sentry abilities. Kili felt the tips of his ears burn with shame. "I'm sorry," he sighed. It sometimes seemed that there was no end of things to apologize for.

"You're... sorry?" They were off to a cracking good start. Four words into their conversation and Thorin was already at a loss. There was no fire or torch to see by, but Kili's beet-red face was apparent even in the scant light of the moon. Thorin hadn't a clue what he had done to cause his nephew's reaction, but he was sure that it was somehow his fault. He offered Kili what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Smiles were always safe, weren't they?

Kili eyed his uncle apprehensively. Thorin was... Grimacing? Snarling? He was baring his teeth, at any rate. His voice had been odd, almost halting and unsure, Kili realized, and that was why he had gone for his sword, thinking that it was a stranger who approached.

"Whatever are you sorry for?" Thorin asked, bared teeth glinting through his beard in the moonlight.

Kili's brows knit together. He should have thought it obvious, although perhaps he had blundered so many times today that his uncle was unsure which time he was apologizing for. The thought did not raise his self-esteem. "I'm sorry for not keeping a better watch," he specified.

This brought a surprised chuckle from his uncle. "It is understandable. You're exhausted. I shouldn't have put you out here to begin with, but I was-"

"Making a point?" Kili offered, without even a shade of bitterness. He was used to points being made at his expense.

"Offering a lesson." Thorin revised.

Kili didn't respond. It was late, and he was more tired than he could ever remember being, so if his thoughts weren't running all that clear, he could be forgiven. Truthfully, he wasn't sure _what_ he felt at this point. Not anger or resentment, just an overwhelming heaviness of being. He was tired of being sorry, tired of being ashamed, tired of trying to explain himself, and so silence seemed to be the least exhausting response that he could make.

Thorin felt a rise of pity as a numb mask settled over Kili's features. "_I _am the one who should be sorry," he said honestly. "Perhaps you did not need the lesson. I confess, I am no longer sure."

Kili raised his brows in surprise. "Did you say that you weren't... _sure_?" A Thorin riddled with self-doubt was a concept that didn't jibe with his faultless vision of the man. "I'm not sure I understand you." He shook his head helplessly.

Something inside Thorin broke. Releasing a long, pent-up breath, he laughed, heartfelt, deep, and booming, straight from the diaphragm. It was the hysterical sound of relief from a man sentenced to death and granted a reprieve with the noose already around his neck. "Kili, that makes two of us. I came here to say, 'well done,' and to apologize. It seemed simple enough. People do such things all the time, or so I am told. I am not sure where it all went so wrong."

If Thorin thought this muddled explanation would ease Kili's confusion, he was wrong still. "Well done for what?" Kili asked. "And apologize for what? This is becoming a fruitlessly elliptical conversation." Bewildered, he joined in his uncle's laughter, causing Thorin to roar until his sides ached and tears stood in his eyes. Kili was absolutely confounded by his uncle's strange behavior, but grinned widely all the same, enjoying the change. He jumped as Thorin slung an arm around his shoulders for support in an effort to catch his breath.

"I should still apologize for my sloppy watch," Kili began ruefully once Thorin was successful in his quest for air. "There are still fifteen goblins somewhere out there." He scanned the camp, surprised that no one seemed to have been woken by the raucous howls from upon the hill.

Thorin swiped at his eyes and stared at the bit of moisture on the back of his hand with something like astonishment. "As to that, it is the one thing we were able to get right. The four of us met up with them just before the creek bed. At least," he continued, self-abasing acerbity creeping into his voice, "we managed to save Brassy. Your missing goblins delivered him right into our midst. It was the last thing they ever did."

"I'm glad you saved him," said Kili sincerely. His voice had become almost a croak by this time. "I felt awful sending him off like that, but it was all that I could think to do." He shivered, reliving his sense of helplessness, and how very alone he had felt at the time.

"It was quite the vision. I'll be able to recall it vividly until the day I die. What in the world made you think of it?" Thorin had understood the ruse perfectly once he heard the tale, but was unable to imagine what might have sparked such an idea to start with.

Kili explained in a gravelly murmur about the putrid stew that had been thrown out almost on top of him and the desperate hunger he had observed in the gaunt faces of the goblins.

Thorin chuckled. "And that, in some labyrinthine way, translated itself in your mind into a deer hide strapped to poor Brassy's back, did it?" Only Kili could have concocted such a plot from such a small detail. Thorin himself didn't have the ingenuity to make such a mental leap, and he knew it.

Kili was unsure for a moment whether to be defensive or proud, but his uncle made the decision easier with his next words. "I came to apologize for not getting there in time. You have no idea how much I regret that failure. But it's obvious to me now that you had no need of me after all. I'm honored to have been your mark and practice dummy for all of your scheming and devilry over the years. The practice has served you well. I wish I'd made it known sooner how much I respect and fear your... Shall we call it a gift?" His face grew serious. "Kili, I have never been more proud."

Kili blinked in surprise. "D'you mean that?" he whispered. He wondered if he could even be heard over the erratic percussion of his heart.

"Truly. That, and more. I always felt my love for the pair of you was something that could remain comfortably unspoken. I hoped you understood well enough through my actions and deeds that it was there. But today, when I thought... When I saw those tracks at the creek..." He stumbled, then drew a dogged breath and plowed on. "I was mistaken. It seemed a great crime that you should go to your deaths not knowing of the pride and solace that you have brought to my fractured life."

His voice broke, a foreign sound to Kili's ears, and the young Dwarf was amazed to see tears standing in Thorin's eyes.

Truth was, Kili understood why his uncle was sometimes harsh or distant. Love showed itself in many ways, and love was all that Kili had known from the day he was born. Having an archer's keen sight, he had seen the way that Thorin's hand had shaken when he first learned that his nephews were back safe and relatively sound. He would have been dim indeed not to read the love in the kind of fear that could set the bravest man he had ever known trembling where he stood.

Yes, Kili understood the many faces love wore very well, but love and pride were separate things, and hearing that he had them both from his uncle removed a hidden weight from Kili's heart. It was something to hear the words spoken out loud, and his swollen throat constricted all the more as he fought against a whirling riot of emotions.

Thorin was unprepared for Kili as he all but tackled him to the ground in an enthusiastic embrace. Startled, his arm rose behind Kili's back in a halting gesture rusty from disuse. It hovered awkwardly as his nephew's forgiving arms wrapped around him, until slowly, with growing surety, he brought it down and clasped the young Dwarf firmly to him. The solid weight of his uncle's arm signaled all the acceptance that Kili had ever craved and washed away years of perceived disappointments and shortcomings. Doubts evaporated like an oppressive fog in a burst of sun, leaving him buoyant and free.

Thorin was stung by the sudden realization that, in many ways, Kili was braver and stronger than himself. His nephew's bold spirit of forgiveness and love was a great strength. Kili would never learn to keep up a guard, but perhaps, with practice, Thorin could learn to drop his. And so it was that Thorin began to tear down his walls and come down from his mountain. By the end of their long-withheld embrace, Thorin was only too willing to drop his lips to the top of Kili's dark head, and it was the younger dwarf who finally had to pull away. He did so with a laugh.

"Careful, Uncle, I don't wish to be strangled twice in one day!" he grinned into Thorin's shoulder.

"Of the many times I have wished to strangle you, tonight is not one of them," chuckled Thorin as Kili drew back. He kept his grip on his nephew's shoulders, holding him at arms length and gazing into his face with undisguised pride.

"Why Uncle, I do believe that was a joke!" Kili's eyes twinkled.

"Is jest and nonsense not the language you speak? I thought that we would perhaps stand a better chance of communicating in your native tongue."

"And another! I'm going to wake up tomorrow and find that none of this actually happened, aren't I? There's quite a knot at the back of my noggin, am I hallucinating?"

Thorin released him with a light shove and a wry twitch of his lips that was almost a smile.

The moment was lost to a sudden keening cry on the wind. Behind them, from deep within the woods, rose a hair-prickling, solitary howl. Kili stiffened, thoughts turning instantly to visions of wargs, but Thorin reassured him. "Only wolves," he said. "They will have good pickings tonight, if their stomachs are strong."

"It came from the goblin camp, then. Could they come here? I can watch longer with Oin if I'm needed," Kili said, hastening to stifle a yawn as the eerie cry was taken up by several new yipping voices. The yips were better. It was as if they were pleased and thanking him for their meal.

"No," said Thorin. "Nori is slated to join him. They will have an easy watch. The wolves will not bother us with such an easy score before them. You and your brother left them quite a feast." He fumbled for something in his pocket as the last of the howls died away. He found Kili's hand in the dark and placed something within his fist. "Every man should have a trophy of his first battle. This is yours, and Fili's."

Kili opened his hand and found lying on his palm the folded leather patch the giant goblin had worn. "This should be Fili's more than mine," he said, but he was touched by the gesture. The small scrap was no oaken shield, but the symbolism was the same.

"Surely, close as the two of you are, you could manage to share it." Kili smiled and Thorin continued. "If not, there is always that ridiculous twelve point rack that we dragged back to camp for you."

"You brought it back with you?" Kili was amazed. "After all this it will be mounted in Erebor after all!"

"Perhaps," Thorin said, eyeing him slyly. "Tell me, what do you plan to do with it on our journey? Cart it around on the back of your pony, becoming caught and snagged on every bush you pass? Even if you wrap it, a spread that wide will be nothing but a hindrance."

There was a surprised silence. Then, "Well... I- I never thought that part out, I guess."

Chuckling, Thorin patted Kili's shoulder as he passed and started down for the camp. "Plan for every eventuality, remember that-" Thorin stopped himself as the words 'my boy' sprung naturally to his lips. _Not a boy_, he remonstrated, _not any longer_. "I will send Oin and Nori up. It will be their watch within the hour. Get some rest. You deserve it."

Kili nodded gratefully and wished his uncle a good night in a distracted voice. Thorin surmised correctly that he was in the midst of plotting some scheme to get his prize to its rightful seat of glory. Privately, he wished him luck. He had already decided on its placement, above the great hearth of the dining hall. He hoped to one day raise a toast to it and his nephews from the head of the table.

Kili watched him go, still pondering the dilemma of the stag's antlers. He was mentally rearranging his travel packs in an effort to squeeze in the trophy in a manner that would not result in his being yanked from his saddle the instant he entered a stand of trees. Once he thought he had struck upon a suitable solution to the puzzle he wandered off to begin a final tour of the ridge.

Thorin had seated himself by the fire and was watching the final flames ebb and fade in the blanketing darkness of full night. When the last orange tongue had flickered its last, he laid himself down and slept. Like everything else that usually weighed on the dwarf lord's mind, his sleep was heavy, yet he still smiled tightly with his eyes closed as the opening trill of some disoriented songbird broke the stillness of the night.

Oin and Nori were awake and dragging their feet sluggishly up the path. Kili saw that Thorin had settled himself for the night opposite Fili, and he studied his family with a new-found sense of peace and ease. His previous loneliness had abated somewhat after his talk with Thorin. He still longed for the comfort Fili's presence invariably brought him, but it was no longer with such an irrational feeling of desperation.

The cheerful trill of a warbler drifted up from the slumbering camp in the rocky valley, and Kili's face nearly split in two with the breadth of his laughing smile. Forming his mouth into a careful 'O,' he returned the sally with his perfect imitation of a lone brown owl.

Below, hearing his brother's reply and listening to the vague stirrings of his sleeping uncle, Fili grinned in the night. _We won't be kept apart_, he thought resolutely. He watched the last three bright sparks of the fire blink out of existence and drifted off at last, reassured that Kili still watched from above.

It was not long before Kili joined him. He stumbled through camp in an exhausted fog, not particularly mindful of where his feet were taking him until he naturally fetched up at his brother's side. He stopped and studied Fili's battered face until he was satisfied that it was relaxed in sleep with no lingering grimace of pain. He dragged his sleeping roll over to lay at Fili's back, away from the residual heat of the stones surrounding the dead fire. They would draw what warmth they needed from each other, as they had done for almost seventy-seven years, and nothing that this journey could ever throw at them would change that.

Kili sat down and pulled off his boots. He ran his hand over the goblin arrowhead still embedded in the heel. Using the edge of his coat to save his fingers, he wrapped the leather around the base of the point and worked it free. Frowning, he laid it down at the head of his makeshift bed. After a moments consideration he added the patch that Thorin had given him, placing it on Fili's side. They would each have their own mementos. Kili couldn't make himself see them as trophies. Truthfully, he didn't feel triumphant at all. Grateful, yes, but there was no real sense of accomplishment, aside from regaining Fili. He smiled with a sudden realization, his elastic mind making a new leap. _Fili_ was his trophy; these objects were only static reminders of what it had taken to earn him.

Kili nestled down in his blankets, leaving nothing but dark eyes and an unkempt slip of hair poking out from the top. He lay on his back, accidentally jostling Fili as he settled against him. Ignoring his brother as Fili grunted, strangely Thorin-like, and swatted at his tormentor in his sleep, Kili peeped drowsily over his covers at the stars. His favorite constellation, the Archer, gazed down, forever alert and standing sentinel with his proud bow. _How wonderful_, he thought, from behind the falling curtain of his consciousness, _to be locked in that celestial draw, always watching over your loved ones_. Burying himself completely in his blankets, Kili waved a white flag to sleep, his only surrender of the night. In everything else, he had fought bravely.

**FINISH**

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**AN: I can't believe that this is over! I hope this was a satisfactory ending to a story that began with nothing more than two bright pairs of eyes peeping out from behind a dead rabbit. That image was as far as I had originally gone in my mind before posting that first, short chapter. It snowballed from there, and I'm glad that it did. I hope it was a fun ride for you. Give me the gift of a last review before you go? I'll miss you all, and thank you, thank you, thank you!**


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